


He'll Protect You

by BWT



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Danger, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Knotting, M/M, Mass Murder, Mating Bond, Torture, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BWT/pseuds/BWT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a few years since things really started getting weird in Beacon Hills and it seems like Stiles Stilinksi is always in the middle, or at least on the periphery, of those same strange happenings. Now that Stiles is about to graduate from high school, Sheriff John Stilinski feels like he's on borrowed time to reconnect with him before Stiles leaves for college.<br/>John feels Stiles slipping away more each day, so he takes Stiles to his favorite camping spot for a week thinking if he can get Stiles away from Scott, that delinquent Derek Hale, and the rest of those kids Stiles has been hanging around with for the last few years, then he might just be able to get some answers. He might be able to finally get to the truth, once and for all.<br/>When his dad proposes they pack up and leave for a week for an impromptu camping trip, Stiles is more than happy to go figuring this is the perfect opportunity to come clean and tell his dad everything about werewolves, mates, bonds, and what being claimed means.<br/>But, of course, it turns out the camping site is in another Alpha's territory; an Alpha with a grudge who would be more than happy to take it out on Derek's mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He's slipping away

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say a big THANK YOU!! to Lisa, R, and Meags who helped me with this by being the best beta readers I could have possibly had or ever hoped to get. Any mistakes or flubs are my own.  
> It's my first time writing anything from start to finish. I have to say I'm pretty darn proud of it.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Sheriff John Stilinski is sitting at his desk looking through a pile of case files when he hears the rap of knuckles on the door jamb. When he looks up, his favorite (though he’d never admit it out loud) deputy, Jordan Parrish is standing just inside the door with a small cooler bag. 

John says distractedly, “Hey, Parrish. What do you have there?” 

“Sheriff, Stiles just dropped this by for you. He said you ‘forgot’ it when you left this morning.” Parrish chuckles. “He actually used air quotes for ‘forgot’. It was pretty funny.” 

John sighs and rolls his eyes. Then winces. “Jesus, now I’m rolling my eyes like my kid. And hell yes, I ‘forgot’ it. He made me chicken and broccoli with quinoa, oh and can’t forget the carrots and celery sticks for a snack.” He tries to force the grimace off his face. “I’d rather have my arm broken than eat that.” 

Parrish laughs. “Well sir, Tammy’s on the switchboard today and you know she’ll narc you out to Stiles if you try to go out for a burger. Be best for you to just suck it up and eat it.” Parrish looks at John’s hangdog face with sympathy. “Maybe I can bring you back a chocolate muffin when I get back from lunch? It’ll be our secret, okay?” 

John’s expression lightens up a bit at the prospect of a delicious sugar filled chocolate muffin. “Yeah, that’d be great Parrish, thanks.” 

Parrish sets the cooler bag on the desk and starts to leave the office, but stops and says, “I hope you don’t mind me saying sir, but Stiles was looking kind of tired and wrecked.” 

Just like that John deflates. “Yeah, I know. I’d like to say it’s because of school, but I don’t know what the hell is going on with him lately.” John closes his eyes briefly, then opens them and stares at the pile of case files. “‘Lately’, hah, that’s a joke. Really, I haven’t known what’s going with him for years now.” John is the first to admit he was more than a bit lost after his wife Claudia died, then even more lost as to how to properly deal with such a smart, hyperactive kid like Stiles.  The ADHD was the least of it. John would swear Stiles was smarter than was good for him and it worried the hell out of him. 

John suddenly points to the files and asks, “Do you know what these are, Parrish?” 

“Beyond case files, sir?” Parrish shakes his head. “No.” 

“These are all the case files that mention my son either as a witness or when he was observed on scene.” John starts picking them up randomly and putting them into new piles. “You know how many there are? Twenty-seven. And those are just the ones we can prove. I’m almost positive I’ve seen his Jeep, or his red hoodie, running from other scenes on at least three occasions.” 

“It’s really been that many?” Parrish asks after he manages to pick his jaw up off the floor.

“Yes Parrish. It’s _been_ _that many_ ,” John grinds out. “And he won’t talk to me!” John pounds a fist on the desk. “I know he’s lying to me, that he’s _been_ lying to me for years…but, God! Sometimes it’s just easier to let him get away with it." John feels like the worst parent in the world to admit it out loud. 

“He’s a headstrong kid,” Parrish says slowly, “But he’s a good kid.” 

John scoffs at that, then frowns. "It was easier after a while, when I knew he was lying to my face, to just…ignore it. I've searched his room, his bags, his Jeep. Hell, I even went to the school and searched his locker,” John says with total exasperation. “Which yes, I know is illegal. I’ve never found any drugs or alcohol stashed anywhere. I mean sometimes there were weird herbs and ashes and stuff, but when I asked his doctor, or looked them up, they’re harmless. I don’t know! He gets terrific grades. Shit, he’s even going to be the salutatorian and that’s only because Lydia Martin beat him out as valedictorian by a few tenths of a point.” He says the last almost pleadingly. 

“He’s a good kid, John,” Parrish repeats. 

John looks at Parrish with an inscrutable expression. “I worried when he was younger because he only had Scott for a friend. Then one day when he’s sixteen, suddenly, he has more and one of them is Derek Hale, which I couldn’t really wrap my mind around. Why the hell does a nineteen year old want to hang with sixteen year olds for anyway? I mean, we detained the kid for suspicion of murder, for Christ’s sake! Who wouldn’t worry when their kid starts hanging out with a guy like that, right?” John scrubs a hand down his face and sighs. 

“But, the thing is Stiles _literally_ did not have more than a single friend. So when he starts hanging out with other kids, I can’t complain right? They all get good grades, for the most part, they’re into extracurricular activities and they’re all essentially good kids. Hell, I can’t even really exclude Hale from that, because even though I think it’s creepy a now twenty-one year old man still hangs out with teenagers, he seems to keep them in line.” _Better than I can,_ he thinks bitterly. “So, I don't really feel like I have a good argument for ‘Hey, I don't like you hanging out with people and making friends’, you know?” 

John stops his rant and takes a deep, steadying breath. "How can I protect him if he keeps me in the dark? How can I protect him if he keeps _lying_ to me? I've gotten to the point where I've stopped talking to him just so that he _doesn't_ have to lie to me." 

“Maybe,” Parrish offers, “you guys could get away for a little bit? Like a vacation? Get Stiles out of his comfort zone, away from the others and get him to open up to you?” 

John thinks about it. “I don’t know…” His eyes come back to rest on the piles of case files. “Maybe you’re right.” He pauses, his eyes going a little distant. “You know, there was a campsite my dad used to take me to; it’s quiet, peaceful. You can really think there. I’ve got some personal days coming. School’s almost done for Stiles anyway, it won’t matter if he misses a few days.” 

They both look from each other back to the case files on the desk. After a minute, John says, “Yeah. Maybe this could work.” He looks back to Parrish. “I just have to convince the kid he _wants_ to go.” 

Parrish frowns. “Oh. Um, yeah. Well, good luck with that.”


	2. Gimme me some lovin'

**CHAPTER TWO**

Stiles is bored out of his mind, which is never a good thing. A bored Stiles is a Stiles with too much time to think. Too much time to think for any eighteen year old with ADHD can have some pretty dire consequences. While Derek Hale, werewolf pack Alpha, and Stiles’ boyfriend for over a year, prattles on about whatever bullshit monster of the week they all just fought and killed, Stiles is beginning to get seriously irate. He wanted this meeting over like an hour ago. 

Stiles looks around the room and tries to stave off boredom as he studies the pack members gathered in Derek’s living room. His best friend, and (for all intents and purposes) brother, Scott, who is also an Alpha werewolf, is sitting on the floor with his back to the overstuffed chair his girlfriend, Kira, is sitting in. His eyes are closed as she cards her fingers through his unruly mop of dark brown hair.

Stiles is happy Derek and Scott came to an understanding with the pack. It’s normally impossible to have more than one non-familial Alpha wolf in a pack, especially when they're two males, but Scott and Derek long ago worked out the differences they’d had after Scott was bitten. Now they work as a cohesive team, offering balance to the other between Scott’s (sometimes naïve) kindness and Derek’s ruthless strength. Derek is a born werewolf, not bitten, so he has a greater knowledge of the supernatural, which had mostly been passed down to him by his family before they were killed by rogue werewolf hunters. 

Kira looks pretty rapt in her attention to whatever Derek is saying, but Stiles figures that’s pretty par for the course, considering she’s only been attending pack meetings for a few months.  Derek was initially reluctant to allow Kira, a Japanese Kitsune, into the inner pack. Even though she’s tiny and doll-like looking, Stiles has seen the firefox kill multiple monsters at one time with her wicked Katana sword. Derek agreed with Scott that Kira had proven her loyalty to the pack, so she’s been allowed to attend their weekly pack meetings, and she looks like she’s still taking it pretty seriously. 

Stiles slides his eyes over to the left and studies Jackson, douchebag extraordinaire and Derek’s original beta, sitting in an overstuffed chair with his girlfriend, Lydia Martin, a Banshee, in his lap. Stiles still sighs a little in his head when he looks at Lydia. God, with her strawberry blond hair and gorgeous looks, it’s no wonder Stiles spent a decade pining after her. Thankfully, after he met Derek, he came to his senses and realized the whole, “I’m totally gay!” thing and has ceased mooning after Lydia. As a result they’ve become great friends if bitter scholastic rivals. 

When Stiles glances to his right his gaze settles on Isaac, the second of Derek’s betas, who’s sitting artfully on the floor in front of the fireplace looking like a GQ model reject, wearing one of his stupid signature scarves. The air conditioning is on in the house and it’s a perfect 75 degrees, but Isaac is _still_ wearing a scarf. Stiles wants to walk over and rip it off his neck. Allison, Scott’s ex and Isaac’s current girlfriend, is leaning against Isaac and tapping on her phone. She could be looking up information on a monster or playing Angry Birds. Either way, with her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a serious expression on her face, it looks important. 

Finally, Stiles moves his gaze over to Erica and Boyd, the last of Derek’s beta wolves. He narrows his eyes watching as they curl around each other on the love seat whispering softly to one another and pointedly ignore everyone in the room, including Derek. Boyd twirls a lock of Erica’s thick blond curls around his fingers. Stiles snickers when Derek walks over to the couch and kicks it once, bringing their attention back to him.

_God, could this fucking pack meeting get any longer?_ Stiles thinks. _I don’t even know why they’re all still here. Haven’t we already discussed everything? Jesus, why can’t these cock blocking assholes leave? Oh, man, I’m pathetic. Getting mad at my friends because they won’t give me some alone time with my boyfriend._ Stiles scoffs a little under his breath. _Right, because even alone Derek’s going to pick up the pace. I’ve been practically_ begging _for sex for months now! Maybe at first it was the whole “Stiles-you’re-under-eighteen-and-we’ll-have-a-mating-bond” excuse, but I turned eighteen April 6th and nada. Still NO butt sex. I_ **want** _some butt sex! I even sent that engraved invitation to deflower me…_

_ _

_Maybe the invitation was too much? I thought it would be funny. At the very least I thought I might be able to get some mutual blow jobs from it without having to beg._ Stiles narrows his eyes. _I’m beginning to think Derek just likes it when I beg. Last night I had to strip naked and crawl onto the guy’s lap before I got a little relief._

Stiles settles himself more comfortably on the sofa, running his hands over the soft material. _Just looking at Derek gives me a hard on. Has he been working out more? I can’t wait to run my tongue over his abs. Maybe, if I do that thing I saw on that porn DVD last week….yeah that could work._  Stiles continues to pet the soft material. Now that he’s lounging on it in Derek’s new living room, Stiles is glad Derek vetoed the cream colored leather Stiles had originally campaigned to get.  “You can just wipe off the cum, Derek! Think of the clean-up options!” _This is better though. I’m glad Derek paid extra for the special scotch guarding. That’s already come in handy several times over._ Stiles huffs out a small laugh. _Haha, “come in handy.” God, I want him to come all over me. I want Derek to bend me over the back of this couch and just pound his hard, long, fat cock into me until I pass out. God, I just want him to_ wreck _me._

 “You know Derek, you were right about the material. This is so much better than leather,” Stiles says without looking up, still running his hands sensuously over and over the cushion. 

Stiles deliberately stills his hand movement as soon as he realizes he is essentially feeling up a couch. It doesn’t help he’s hard either. Though Stiles stopped worrying about popping a boner in front of the pack a while ago, because, hey…he’s an eighteen year old kid who has an extreme desire for one of them, popping a boner is inevitable. It’s happened to all of them at one point or another. Their etiquette just dictates no one say anything. He’s even wearing his special “erection” pants, which manage to conceal, at least visually, his erection, but not cut off circulation to his dick, while simultaneously showing off his spectacular ass. Of course he can’t hide the smell of desire that practically pours off him in waves. The wolves can all smell it, but he thinks by now everyone’s gotten used to it.  Though now he has to wear the pants to all the pack meetings because every time he sees Derek in a leadership role it makes him so hard he can barely breathe. 

_Jesus, do you know how hard (pardon the pun) it is to be around someone who literally exudes sex appeal, feeling horny all the time and_ not _get laid?! I’m taking four showers_ a day _and not because I’m dirty either. I don’t understand why the man I am in love with, who is in love with me,_ or so he says _, won’t fuck me. I just need to be fucked! So yeah, I’m petting a fucking couch in a living room surrounded by fucking werewolves who can all go fuck themselves because I am tired of not getting laid!_  

Stiles suddenly realizes he is now standing next to the sofa, breathing hard and judging by the completely horrified expressions on everyone in the pack, including Derek, his “inner monologue” was not so “inner” and he has just said all of that _out loud_. Stiles runs a hand across his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry guys. I’m tired and you know my filter doesn’t work well on my best days.” 

“You sent Derek an invitation to deflower you, Dude?” Scott breathed out. “Woah, dude, that is…Wait, I thought that happened a while ago?” 

“Well, I mean, we’ve done _stuff_ ,” Stiles splutters. “Stuff has happened! Hand jobs and blow jobs mostly. And rimming, we love the rimming. But…” 

“Jesus, Stilinski,” Jackson growls, “I do not need to know about your pathetic sex life. Ever. Seriously. What the hell, man?” 

Lydia shakes her head, a look of horror on her face and says, “I think we should go. We’ve covered everything, haven’t we Derek?” 

Derek, who is still staring at Stiles, just nods. Stiles thinks Derek is literally unable to speak at this moment, though from rage or lust, Stiles doesn’t know. He hopes it’s lust. He doubts it but hope springs eternal.

Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Allison quietly gather up their things and Isaac mumbles, “I think I’ll stay at Scott’s tonight okay Derek?” before quickly leaving the room. Derek waves a hand in his direction to show he heard Isaac, but doesn’t take his eyes of Stiles. 

Scott and Kira slowly stand up together and Scott chuckles, “Well, that’s one way to end an otherwise pretty boring pack meeting. Kudos, dude.” Kira lightly smacks Scotts arm, then stops next to Stiles to run her hand down his back murmuring, “It’ll be okay.” She says it so softly even the two Alpha werewolves can’t hear. 

Stiles nods his head to acknowledge her but doesn’t take his eyes off Derek. Scott and Kira leave quietly and Stiles is left alone with Derek. He figures some damage control is probably best at this point. “Derek…”

“Shut. Up.” Derek growls. “Just stop talking, Stiles.” 

Stiles bristles at that. “Hey, I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud!” 

Derek stalks over to Stiles with such intent, Stiles backs away automatically until his back is touching the nearest wall. “You know why I haven’t made love to you, Stiles. You think this is only hard for you?” Stiles snorts over the unintentional pun and Derek crowds closer to Stiles and cages him against the wall. “Shut. Up.” _Oh shit_ , Stiles thinks. Derek’s eyebrows have practically become a “V”. Stiles is man enough to admit he whimpers a little…and his dick gets harder, which he didn’t even think was possible. 

Derek’s eyes flash red and his nostrils flare, obviously inhaling the scent of Stiles’ arousal. “You think this is _difficult_ only for you? I have _never wanted_ anyone as much as I want you. It is hard for me to _breathe_ when you are not with me and that is when I _haven’t_ touched and marked you. You know what Deaton said, Stiles. Having sex with you is just going to tie our bind even tighter. So I told you I was waiting for you to turn eighteen, which, yes, was a lie, because I thought I would have _more time_ to figure out a way we can be together without you giving up any chance of a life without me if that’s what you want. I don’t want you to regret this years down the road, because that would kill me Stiles. It would kill me because you are the only family I have left and if you leave me I would prefer not to have a psychic bond with you that has the potential to kill us both if we separate.” 

Deaton, a druid and the former Hale pack Emissary, has been training Stiles in magicks and spell work over the past year. Deaton had explained that normally a human and a werewolf could not be a mated pair, but Stiles is a “spark”, which basically means he has untapped power within him that can be used magically. Because of this and Derek already bonding him to the pack, it would be possible for a mating bond to occur. “When Deaton told us he’d never seen a potential bond as strong as ours we both agreed to wait,” Derek reminds Stiles quietly. Stiles moves his hands to Derek’s chest and pets him soothingly. 

It was true when they first had the conversation, Stiles agreed to wait. As Stiles had never heard of a mating bond, he needed to research it, which was ultimately frustrating because it was so rare and the texts and research were confusing and limited. Derek could only tell him about his parents’ bond, but had no other reference. It turned out werewolves didn’t write so much about epic love bonds. Stiles had complained at the time, _“You can’t throw a rock without hitting six hundred accounts of what wolfsbane feels like on your skin, but look for a few texts on what would happen if a human takes the mating bond with a wolf and nada!”_  

There are just too few accounts of true bonded pairs and the only thing they know with certainty is a mate bond can only happen between an Alpha and his or her true mate. Deaton can’t tell them what could happen to them if and when they bond.  

When Derek and Stiles first began dating, the pack knew and was, for the most part, happy for them. However, the pack as a collective whole had voted to not tell the Sheriff about the supernatural elements, despite Stiles’ vigorous objections and arguments.  It was one of the only bones of contention between them and, ultimately, Stiles agreed to wait because he wanted to be the one to tell his father about them first. 

Now Stiles realizes Derek’s misguided fear is that Stiles is too young and too inexperienced to make the decision to tie himself psychically to Derek forever. “Derek, I understand the mating bond is permanent with no chance of reversal once it’s set. I’m not too young to make the decision to be together, or to know my own mind, or the consequences of my actions. This is not a Kate situation.” Derek winces at her name and Stiles knows he has to tread carefully here. Derek is all about consent.  _Fucking Kate._ _I hope you are rotting in hell, you bitch, for the scars you have given this man._ Stiles sighs at the difficulty Derek still has communicating sometimes even though they’ve worked on it _a lot_ over the past year and Derek has become much more at ease with actually _talking_ things out. Well…most of the time. 

Stiles swallows and presses on. He wants Derek to be just as sure.  “The only thing stopping me, Der, is telling my dad about everything. Is the only reason holding you back because you think I’m too young?” 

Derek blows a shaky breath out and says, “Not too young, but…you know how I feel, Stiles. I just…” 

"Shhhh, I know." Stiles bites his lip and thrills a little at how Derek’s gaze automatically follows the gesture and his eyes briefly flash red. Stiles knows making love will only be a formal acknowledgement of their bond. 

He can feel Derek’s heart begin to beat faster under his hand. “Do you want to give me the mating bite, Derek?” he asks, trying to use a seductive tone. 

Derek leans forward to lick at the seam of Stiles’ lips as if begging for entrance. “Yes,” he hisses out. 

“You want to mark me? Make it so everyone can see I’m only yours?” Stiles runs his fingers over his neck above his collarbone, tracing the area where the bite will be made. Derek begins to slowly nod and dips his head forward to lick at the area. Derek nibbles softly on Stiles’ neck and growls softly. “It sounds like your wolf wants to. Your wolf wants me Derek. I know he does.” Stiles tilts his head for better access to Derek’s tongue. Stiles rubs his hands across Derek’s chest and feels the rumble of pleasure Derek gives. Stiles loves how responsive his wolf is to him. 

Derek covers Stiles’ lips in a searing kiss. Stiles moans and tangles his tongue with Derek’s. He deepens the kiss for a minute, all tangled tongues and heavy breaths, before pulling back and saying, “You gonna claim me, Derek?” 

At this Derek seems to realize he has Stiles pressed against the wall and backs away shaking his head. “I want to claim you. I want you mated to _me_.” Derek slaps a hand to his own chest. “Forever Stiles. Do you understand that? You’ll tell your dad about us?” 

Stiles nods his head. “If you give me the go ahead, I will tell him in a heartbeat. Are you really prepared to bring him into…everything?” 

Derek throws his hands up, “Yes.” At Stiles sardonic look Derek looks away. “Okay, not so much a year ago when you were underage and he could have kept you from me, but you aren’t underage anymore and he _can’t_ keep you from me. So, yes, if it means I can finally claim you, then you can tell him everything.” 

Stiles’ heart rate picks up in excitement. “I am totally willing to do that, Derek.” 

Stiles doesn’t know how it’s possible but Derek’s pupils widen even more, blotting out all but the smallest ring of color in his eyes. He grabs Stiles, pulls him close and growls “Are. You. Sure?” Derek kisses him almost brutally, nipping and licking at Stiles’ lips. “I can claim you? No more hiding? What about your future, going to school, other guys?” 

Stiles tries to focus. “Derek, we have talked about this. I don’t _want_ a future without you. Being with you doesn’t mean I can’t go to school.” He presses himself along the length of Derek’s body, grinding his erection into Derek. Stiles keens low when he feels how hard Derek is too. “I don’t want other guys. I want to be with you forever.” 

If he’s totally honest with himself, Stiles is almost sure he’s demisexual. He’s only been emotionally interested in two people and only seriously sexually interested in Derek. Personally, he thinks Derek might be demisexual too. He knows Derek only ever slept with Kate Argent and Jennifer Blake. Stiles delights at being the only man Derek’s ever been with sexually. 

Derek’s expression is a combination of pure joy, lust and love. “Mine!” He growls and dips his head to Stiles shoulder and mouths and licks the cord of muscle at his neck. Derek growls low and dangerously. Stiles' breathing, shallow and quick, comes in pants but he isn't afraid. Far from it. He is trembling with excitement. “The bite itself won’t seal the bond between us, not unless we both accept it. But...Stiles, you’re it for me. There will be no one else…I…I don’t want to be with anyone else. Ever.” 

Stiles trembles a bit more. He knows, unlike with the changing bite, when an Alpha gives the mating bite it heals to a scar. It’s meant to be clearly visible to anyone looking that you are claimed. He loves the thought of anyone being able to just look at him and know he’s the mate of an Alpha. Stiles jumps a little and wraps his legs around Derek’s waist tightly. He presses a hot kiss to Derek’s lips and says breathlessly, “Yes, Derek, I want it. Please.” Stiles feels like if he doesn’t get Derek inside of him he’s going to die. 

Derek walks slowly to the stairs and then, very carefully, starts to climb them with Stiles held securely in his arms. "Ummm…Derek, do you have any idea what you do to me?" Stiles asks as he rains kisses and little nipping bites everywhere his mouth can reach. “I’m pretty sure I’d let you do anything you wanted to me.  I want you so much.” 

Derek stumbles on the stairs, but quickly recovers his balance. “Jesus, Stiles, you…you can’t say something like that to me when I’m…ungh!” His erection is so hard pressed against Stiles’ belly and Stiles moves one of his hands down to slip between them trying to reach it. “Stiles,” Derek groans. He reaches the top of the stairs and pushes Stiles into the wall, grinding against him and biting softly at Stiles’ jaw and ear. 

Stiles doesn’t even try to stop the moan that crawls out of his throat. “I want you in my mouth, Derek," Stiles huffs out a breath. "Please? I want to put my mouth all over you." More than anything else they’ve done, Stiles loves to suck Derek’s dick. He loves Derek’s reactions, his loss of control when he sucks him dry. 

_“Stiles,"_ Derek growls out hoarsely, then grabs his hand and drags him to the bedroom. “God, I have…you have…get out of your clothes!” Derek says almost frantically as he rips Stiles t-shirt off over his head and begins unbuttoning Stiles’ pants. Stiles slaps his hands away and, in seconds, strips so he’s standing naked. 

“Please, Derek,” Stiles says brokenly as he strips Derek of his shirt and opens his jeans. Then just stops and moans, “You’re commando? For fuck’s sake Derek, you’ve been going commando under your jeans all night?” Stiles pushes away Derek’s hands and quickly tugs Derek’s pants down. In one quick jerk he pulls the jeans, socks and shoes off. Later, when Stiles looks back on this, he’s sure he’ll be impressed with that action. 

Stiles slides down Derek’s body and gets on his knees, eye level with Derek’s magnificent uncut cock. He licks a wet line up Derek’s cock from the base to the tip. He loves Derek’s cock. He loves to play and suck on the foreskin. In the last year Stiles has become exceptionally good at blow jobs and Derek loves it. It’s taken them a long time to get Derek comfortable to ask for what he wants or to talk in the bedroom. Stiles loves dirty talk and praise and he loves that Derek always goes outside his personal comfort zone to give him what he needs. 

He pulls Derek’s foreskin back carefully and slowly runs his tongue around the mushroom head, already turning a deep red, and laps up the few drops of pre-come beading sluggishly out of the slit. Stiles feels Derek's hand wrap around the back of his neck and he hums as those fingers convulse twice. Derek makes a strangled groan, shaking with pleasure and Stiles thinks, _That’s right, you feel that?_ I did that! _I am a master!_  

“Could eat you,” Derek says as he steadies himself with a grip on Stiles' shoulders. “Love…your mouth.” 

He looks up at Derek, eyes pleading and nods frantically. Then he opens his mouth wide and swallows Derek’s hard length down to the root. He’s proud of this skill. He’d never admit out loud he had bought a dildo he knew matched Derek’s length and girth and practiced _for months_ until he could deep throat it without gagging. _Thank you God, for werewolves having no modesty!_ He lifts up, sucking in his cheeks and running his tongue around Derek’s cock. He loves doing this to Derek. Derek is big and thick, really almost too big for this, but he’s perfect for Stiles. 

Derek holds the back of Stiles’ neck and begins to thrust gently into his mouth. He thrusts deep twice, groaning when Stiles swallows around his cock. Then he squeezes Stiles’ neck once and says, “No more, Stiles.” Derek grinds out. Stiles pulls off Derek’s dick with an obscene pop, then allows Derek to pull him up off his knees. “Want me to tell you everything I’m going to do to you tonight?” 

"Yes! How do you want to fuck me, Derek? Do you want me on my hands and knees? Do you want me to ride you so I can drop down on your cock over and over again? Do you want me on my back so you can look at my face?" Stiles asks breathlessly. He’s thought of so many ways for this to happen his mind literally races with all the possibilities.

Derek pants hard and his eyes start to glow red, his control slipping a little more. Derek pushes Stiles back on to the bed. Stiles looks up at Derek and whispers, “What do you want to do to me, Derek?” 

Derek grabs Stiles’ hips and flips him over onto his stomach, then drags him up so he’s on his knees and positions him with knees spread wide. It’s one of Derek’s favorite positions and pastimes. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s a wolf thing but Derek particularly enjoys ass play. Not that Stiles is complaining. _No, sir, no complaints from me!_ “Don’t move,” Derek commands. Stiles can hear him leave the room and can see the light in the bathroom flick on. A minute later Derek returns with a couple of wipes and a soft cloth. Derek begins praising Stiles, “You’re so good, Stiles. You did just what I said. I love you so much. Do you know how much I love you? How much I want to be with you? You’re going to be mine starting tonight and I’ll always be with you. For as long as you want me.” Derek continues to whisper praise as he wipes and cleans, and Stiles doesn’t feel embarrassed. His skin flushes with pleasure. 

Once Stiles is ready, Derek tongues and mouths at Stiles’ balls. With his hands, Derek spreads Stiles open and runs his tongue through the cleft of his ass.  Before long his tongue is circling Stiles' pucker and both of them are moaning. When Derek pushes his tongue inside Stiles’ hole and twists it a little, Stiles groans loudly and fists his hands in the comforter.  He raises his ass up to give Derek better access. “Please, Derek, please, please!” Stiles is almost mindless in his begging. He’ll do anything, say anything at this point to have more of this sweet torture. 

Derek pulls back a bit and bites the bottom of Stiles’ right cheek. Not enough to break the skin, but hard enough to possibly bruise, especially with as fair skinned as Stiles is. “I’m going to lick your hole until you’re sloppy, wet and a whimpering mess. You will scream my name when you come. Then I’m going to lick you clean all over until you’re hard again.” Stiles moans and pushes back into Derek. Derek reaches across to the nightstand and grabs out a bottle of lube and a condom. “I want to hear you beg me to fuck you. I want to thrust so deep inside your ass you’ll feel me for days. Most of all though? I want to come inside you and then when you’re ready, I want to suck your beautiful cock until your eyes roll back in your head, then suck you dry and make you come so hard you pass out.” 

“Yes,” Stiles begs, “God yes! Derek please. Please!” Stiles reaches out, grabs the condom and throws it aside. “We’ve talked about this for hours, Derek. No condoms! I haven’t been with anyone; you’re clean since you can’t catch anything, so just…get inside me…I need you in me now!” 

Derek chuckles darkly, opens the lube and goes back to licking Stiles’ hole, thrusting his tongue inside and licking around the rim over and over again with no pattern to allow Stiles to get used to. Stiles feels Derek’s thumbs push at his rim and then a finger slips easily into his hole. He relaxes into the slight thrusting action Derek is doing with such care. Derek continues to open Stiles up carefully. By the time Derek is gently thrusting three fingers in Stiles’ ass, Stiles is internally thanking Google for teaching him how to relax both his external and internal sphincters. _And yoga, God bless yoga._  

Stiles reaches a hand to grab his cock and pumps hard. “Derek! Derek, I can’t…God! Gonna…gonna…” Derek flips Stiles onto his back quickly just as thick ropes of come spurt from Stiles’ cock. Stiles screams out Derek’s name, and Derek slowly licks all the come from Stiles’ pale stomach and chest. After all the come is cleaned up he licks and sucks at Stiles’ nipples, across his chest, collarbone and neck. He sucks at the pale skin hard in some places and looks so smug Stiles is sure he’s left hickies all over him. Stiles is used to Derek marking him, but in the past it’s always been places his dad won’t see. _Not tonight,_ Stiles thinks. _God I’m going to look ravaged._  

Derek licks at Stiles until he starts to harden again. _Let’s hear it for an eighteen year old’s refractory period!_ Stiles thinks smugly. Derek grabs a pillow from the top of the bed and tucks it under Stiles’ hips. “Want to fuck you like this but don’t want to hurt you, okay?” Stiles knows Derek’s asking him to make sure he tells him if anything doesn’t feel good. His wolf is too protective sometimes.

Stiles nods. “Yes, I will, I promise. Just…please, Derek? Please?” Derek kisses Stiles passionately, lines up his cock at Stiles’ entrance and pushes in slowly. He makes sure to stop every inch or so to let Stiles adjust. He carefully pulls out and thrusts in another inch at a time making Stiles crazy. Stiles clasps and claws at Derek and yells, “God, Derek, you don’t have to go so slow! I’m good! Please! Fuck me, please!” 

Derek pulls back a little making Stiles moan, then thrusts in to the hilt. The moan Stiles makes Derek pause and ask breathlessly, “You okay?” Stiles nods vigorously and pushes his hips forward to get as much of Derek inside him as he can. It pushes the last of Derek’s control away. Derek begins desperately thrusting in and out of Stiles as fast as he can. The sounds of their bodies slapping together in the quiet of the room, the harsh exhale of their breaths and the low moans and groans coming continuously now inflame Derek completely. 

“Now, Derek, bite me now,” Stiles moans. Derek pulls Stiles up so he can reach Stiles’ neck. 

“You’re sure?” Derek asks raggedly.

“Yes!” Stiles whispers and stretches his neck in invitation. “I want to be your mate, Derek.” Derek makes a low, animal noise that immediately makes Stiles’ cock harden completely again. Derek leans over and bites down on the corded muscle where Stiles’ neck meets his shoulder and Stiles mirrors the gesture. He can hear Derek reflexively swallowing and thinks, _He’s giving me the mating bite. My blood. He’s drinking my blood. The first part is complete!_ Stiles laps at the little bit of blood that wells to the surface of the bite he gives Derek, then cries out from the pleasure of Derek’s thrusts. “I'm going to stretch you open over my knot and tie you to me. I'm going to make you mine,” Derek growls and Stiles almost comes right then. 

Suddenly, Stiles can feel Derek pulse deep inside him. Derek thrusts a couple more times, then pushes Stiles back onto to the bed and almost bends himself in half in order to swallow Stiles’ cock to the root. Stiles shouts with pleasure. Derek’s mouth feels so fantastic. He pulls up the length and sucks on Stiles’ head and shoves his tongue in his slit, which makes Stiles whimper and grab Derek’s hair in his fist. 

“You’re so fucking good at this, Der. Fuuuuuck. I need…” Stiles yelps with surprise as he can feel Derek’s cock thickening even more in his ass. “Oh, God, Der, you’re knotting me!” Derek nods and rolls his eyes up so he can see Stiles’ face. Stiles knows he looks stunned.

They’d both known it could happen. It had been a very long and very awkward conversation with Deaton. They both knew the chances of knotting grew if you were meant to be a mated pair. From the “talk” Stiles knows the pleasure Derek feels is indescribable as his knot thickens. 

Derek rolls his hips, his knot tugging on Stiles’ rim, and _well, that hurts a little_ , but then Derek shoves his knot insideand _ungh that feels good_. Derek keeps up a running monologue as Stiles moans and tells him how good he feels and whispers about how Stiles was made for him and how Derek is _so proud of him_ and Stiles is just _wrecked_. “Der,” Stiles slurs.

Derek slides a hand down Stiles chest petting and shushing him. “Just breathe. So good, Stiles, just a little more.” Derek continues to make short thrusts as much as he can and moves slightly positioning the knot so he can drag his cock over Stiles’ prostate over and over. When Derek pulses deep within him again Stiles cries out, his eyes roll back in his head and he comes harder than he ever has before. Then he loses consciousness. 


	3. I need some lovin'

**CHAPTER THREE**

Derek holds a still unconscious Stiles close and begins to get a bit worried. His knot has finally subsided and he slips from Stiles with a barely audible groan. _Christ, if I could spend half of the rest of my life buried in Stiles to the hilt, I’ll be a happy man._ The other half he’s pretty sure, he wants to spend with Stiles buried in him.

Derek listens to Stiles’ heartbeat and takes comfort in the strong sound of it. He’s torn because half of him wants to get up and go to the bathroom for a new cloth so he can clean and care for his mate, and the other half doesn’t want to leave his mate while he’s in an obviously vulnerable position.  His wolf is near desperate inside for his mate to wake up. _My mate_ , he thinks with glee. He’s been so afraid for so long Stiles would decide he didn’t really want Derek. That he didn’t want anything more to do with wolves and monsters, the pack, and all the other bullshit Derek deals with on a daily basis.

When Stiles told him tonight he wanted to be claimed, Derek thought for a moment he was going to pass out as his blood thundered hard in his ears. He traces a fingertip over the bite mark on Stiles’ shoulder. It starts just at the base of his neck and runs nearly half the length of his shoulder. He doesn't remember, but his jaw must have shifted in order for the bite radius to be so large. If Deaton is right, then by tomorrow morning the mating bite will heal to a scar, regardless of Stiles being human. Deaton explained it’s something in the werewolf’s saliva. It’s the same reason a changing bite heals overnight, though this bite will leave a white, raised scar so everyone who sees it will know Stiles is _his. His mate._ Derek growls and can’t help but lean forward to lick the wound and Stiles’ neck.

He mouths at Stiles neck and when he nips at his jaw, he hears Stiles’ heart rate pick and looks up to see Stiles’ eyes slowly open.

“Stiles?” Derek pulls him a little close. “You okay?”

Stiles quietly moans and says in a hoarse voice, “Never been better. Was it good for you?”

Derek laughs and says, “Yeah, Stiles. It was great for me.” He feels such unbridled joy he can hardly contain it. He hasn’t felt this good since long before his family was murdered. _Nope, not going to think about that._ Derek can see Stiles wince as he moves his neck a little. “Hold on, let me get a towel and stuff to clean you up.” As he eases away from Stiles, Derek gives him a quick kiss. He grabs what he needs from the bathroom, including the first aid kit he bought especially for Stiles. _Fragile human,_ he thinks fondly as he comes back to the bed.

Kneeling on the mattress Derek cleans Stiles up quickly and efficiently making sure to praise him the whole time. It’s hard for him to talk sometimes but Stiles really likes it, so he tries. “You did so good. It was better than I imagined. You looked so good coming on my cock.” Derek loves the flush he sees stain Stiles’ pale chest and neck.

Derek rolls on top of Stiles who begins to moan and writhe as Derek kisses him deeply. Stiles pulls his head away with a gasp and asks, “Ready for round two?” Derek answers by trailing his hand down Stiles chest to his cock, giving it a light squeeze. Stiles arches up into the grip and moans out, “Ungh, more, Derek, please?”

Derek kisses Stiles, shushes him softly and continues to pump Stiles' cock. “I’ll take care of you Stiles. I promise, okay?”

Stiles arches up again and says, “Inside me Derek. I want you inside me.”

Derek catches his breath but shakes his head. _Can't, it's too soon after knotting him._ Derek plants little kisses over Stiles’ heart and says, “No. It’ll hurt too much.”

Stiles shakes his head, thrusting his hips up to try to meet Derek’s. “No it won’t. Please?”

Derek shakes his head again. “No, Stiles.” Derek knows Stiles doesn’t really know what he’s asking for. Derek can feel the changes from the mating bond happening. It makes it almost impossible to stop touching Stiles. He can only imagine how Stiles feels. Derek sees the protest forming on Stiles’ lips and quickly rushes out, “Fuck me, Stiles?” He knows Stiles has fantasies about fucking him, he’s listened to them enough as he’s blown Stiles in the last few months.

Stiles freezes below Derek and stutters out a breath, “Seriously?” His eyes widen almost comically. Derek nods and huffs out a small laugh, loving Stiles’ enthusiasm. Stiles begins nodding vigorously, “Yeah, okay. Yeah. Sure. Um, now? ‘Cause I could…now. You know? Do you now.” Stiles squirms out from beneath Derek, hops off the bed and almost runs to the bathroom. When he returns a few moments later he has some wipes and a towel in his hands. Derek turns over for him and Stiles skids to a stop next to the bed and just stares.

“You okay, Stiles?” Derek teases as his pulls his legs up and spreads his knees apart. “See something you like?” Stiles loves it when Derek teases him. Over the last year Derek has committed to memory all the things Stiles has talked about or asked for sexually. He plans to give them all, and more, to him one day at a time. _For the rest of our lives._

Stiles drops the towel on the bed and grabs his aching length. “Oh, God, Der. Seriously, I’m worried I’m gonna come before I ever get inside you.”

Derek wiggles his ass a little and says, “Don’t worry about it. It won’t be the only time you come today. Come on, I need you.”

Stiles quickly steps forward and, with as much care as Derek had shown him earlier, cleans and readies Derek. After he throws away the wipes and tosses the towel, he grabs Derek’s ass and says, “Your ass should have poetry written about it. I have never seen anything more perfect.” Derek still sometimes has issues when Stiles brings up how good looking his is, comparing it to the way Kate remarked on his looks, all the while torturing him and ultimately using him to kill his family. _NO! DO NOT think about her! She doesn’t matter. No one matters but Stiles, ever._

They've talked about this, more times than Derek could possibly count, because Stiles has a vivid imagination and little filter, so technically Derek's prepared. Stiles has had him doing yoga and special relaxation breathing so he won't have pain, but that's all technical. The reality is Stiles is well endowed, and though normally Derek loves his long, gorgeous cock, he's a little nervous about it being in his ass.

Derek tenses and Stiles says, “Don’t worry. I’m only going to use my mouth right now.” Before Derek can really process that, he feels Stiles’ long fingered hands spread his cheeks open. _God, I love his hands._ He feels Stiles’ hot breath on his exposed hole, then gentle kisses on the globes of his ass. “I want to eat you up, Der, swear to God,” Stiles says.  Derek feels his arousal growing even harder. Derek slips a hand down to squeeze his cock but Stiles pushes his hand away and says, “Nuh uh. It’s all for me, Der.  All of it. I want it all.” Then Stiles goes back to alternately licking his hole and sucking on his sac.

Derek can feel Stiles’ thumbs massaging his sensitive skin, can feel Stiles’ tongue flicking back and forth over his hole before suddenly spearing inside. Derek can’t help but shout out, “Feels so good!”

Stiles pulls away and says in a deep throaty voice, “I could do this forever, Der.” Then slides his tongue back into Derek’s body. It’s almost torturous because all of his senses are heightened as a werewolf. Derek shakes and squirms under Stiles mouth. Stiles pulls his tongue out and pushes both his thumbs into Derek’s hole.

“Fuuuck, don't stop!" Derek mumbles with pleasure, writhing on the sheets.

Derek drops his head to the mattress and babbles out words incoherently. He feels like his brain is shut down, he can’t think, only feel. Stiles must have grabbed the lube because Derek can feel the slick as Stiles works his fingers into Derek’s hole. He concentrates on relaxing and letting himself open.

He hears Stiles, almost from far away, ask, “You ready, Der? Ready for me? I can’t hold it any more. Gotta be inside you.” Derek nods frantically, feels Stiles rub the head of his dick back and forth almost teasingly over his pucker and then almost howls in pleasure when he feels the flared head of Stiles’ cock push past the first ring of muscle and slowly slide into him. “Okay, Der? You okay? This good?” Stiles asks.

“More Stiles, please,” Derek growls. Stiles pulls back almost slipping out of Derek. Derek pushes his hips back when Stiles presses forward, neither of them stopping until Stiles is buried in Derek up to the hilt. Derek looks back over his shoulder at Stiles and slurs, “Harder…want more. Love you. Want…so much.”

Stiles carefully pulls back until only his glans is inside Derek and then thrusts back in as hard as he can. “Ungh,” Derek growls, “Again.” Stiles nods and soon the room is filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together and their mingling moans. Derek can feel his balls start to tighten, “Almost there…” Stiles takes one hand off Derek’s hip and reaches around to grab Derek’s hard, dripping cock. He uses Derek’s pre-come to easily slide his fist over Derek’s shaft again and again, rubbing his thumb across the head of Derek’s dick, just like Derek loves. When Stiles pushes the tip of his finger into his hole Derek bellows and begins to come hard, his come pulsing over Stiles’ hand and splattering onto the bed.

Derek feels Stiles move his hand back to his hip and his thrusts stutter as he shoves in holding Derek’s hips hard enough to bruise, then there is only the feeling of warmth as Stiles’ come coats the inside of his ass. Stiles drapes over Derek’s back and peppers his shoulders and neck with soft kisses and little swipes of his tongue. “So good, Der. You were so good.” After a minute, Stiles carefully pulls out and stumbles a little to get a cloth to clean them both up. Derek stretches out languidly on the bed and thinks, _My mate takes such good care of me._ He had been a bit worried about his first time with a man, but it was fantastic, so much better than he dreamed and he’s practically purring with contentment. After Stiles returns and cleans them both up, he pulls Stiles down to drape across his chest and cuddle.

Derek loves to cuddle. “So good, Stiles. I never knew it could be like that,” Derek says sleepily.

Derek can feel Stiles nod as he lays on top of him with Stiles’ head tucked under his chin and their legs slotted together. “I never knew either, Der. I love you.” Derek traces a finger around the bite again. Stiles’ chuckles. “Pretty proud of yourself there, aren’t you, Sourwolf? Got yourself a mate.” Stiles lifts his head and takes Derek’s mouth in a slow, burning kiss. “My mate. Derek Hale, I love you.”

Derek knows beyond a shadow of a doubt he wants the bond with Stiles. He slowly remembers the words his mother taught him and knows with utter certainty he means them. He sits up, holding Stiles in his lap and looks into his eyes and says slowly and clearly, “My mate, Przemysław Stilinski, my love for you is as endless as the universe, deeper than the oceans, and stronger than any weakness in me. My heart beats only for you and the love we share.” As soon as he finishes, Derek feels a little silly. But the absolute love on Stiles’ face at his words almost takes his breath away. Then fear races down his spine when the whiskey colored eyes he loves so much bleed completely black. Derek tries to move, to do something, but literally feels frozen. He can’t draw breath, can’t look away, can’t move a muscle, or hear anything but Stiles’ heartbeat.

Stiles lays a hand over Derek’s heart and Derek hears, as though from a great distance, Stiles say, “My mate, Derek Hale, my love for you is as endless as the universe, deeper than the oceans, and stronger than any weakness in me. My heart beats only for you and the love we share.”

Stiles’ breath stutters to a stop and all sound ceases. Then with a sudden pop, his ears clear, Stiles’ eyes return to normal and they both collapse boneless back on the mattress. It’s several minutes before Stiles says weakly, “What the hell was that?” Derek feels relief and such warmth as he drags his hands over Stiles to make sure he’s all right. He can actually _feel_ his side of the mating bond.

It’s some time before Derek and Stiles are able to get up, albeit slowly, both of them moving as though they’ve been through a grueling workout, and make their way to the bathroom. Derek turns on the multiple shower heads and sprays, then waits for the temperature to warm up enough before he and Stiles step into the stall together.

“God, I love that you put multiple jets in here. Have I told you that? It was genius.” Stiles moans as he arches under the different jet sprays, turning his body to catch a pulse here and there on his sore muscles. “And _two_ rain shower heads? I’ll admit it, I called you a crazy bastard when you were designing it but I take it all back. Genius.” He repeats and turns the temperature on his side of the shower stall even hotter.

“I accept your apology,” Derek says magnanimously. “I knew it would be worth it in the end.”

“Oh, it so is. It, really, really is,” Stiles groans.

Derek grabs the soap and a washcloth and begins to lazily wash Stiles. Once he’s washed every square inch of Stiles’ body, he maneuvers Stiles around to wash off the soap. Stiles grabs the cloth and begins washing Derek. He quietly asks, “Are we going to talk about what just happened?”

Derek shrugs but he knows his face plainly shows he doesn’t want to talk about it. Stiles sighs and says, “We need to talk about it, Der. Was that a spell we did without knowing?”

Derek shrugs again, but when Stiles rolls his eyes he says, “Not a spell but part of the third step in the mating bond.”

“What? Part of the third step? I thought the bond was all about the bite and acceptance?”

“It is,” Derek agrees quickly, “but both of us have to accept it.” Derek turns off the sprays and hands Stiles a towel to dry off before he grabs his own.

“Not this time big guy,” Stiles says as he towels dry. “Use your words.”

Derek sighs and says, “It’s three steps, right? First, we have to be compatible as ‘true mates’ with a desire to seal the bond.  Second, the mating bite is given by the Alpha during sex and blood is exchanged.” He holds up a hand because he knows what Stiles is about to ask. “No, I don’t know if it always has to be during sex, that’s just what my mom told me.” He puts his towel carefully on the hook and turns back to Stiles. _And I literally cannot recall a more embarrassing conversation than the "sex and mates" talk I had with my mother._

“Third and last, both mates have to unequivocally accept the bond.” He pauses and says quietly and simply, “I did.” His fingers graze the already almost scarred bite as his wolf practically purrs. “I don’t feel the bond from your side. It doesn’t feel any different than the pack bond.”

Stiles shakes his head and shrugs off Derek’s hand. He points back at the bedroom and asks, “So that was you accepting the mating bond?”

Derek says, “Yes.” _Please don’t ask how I feel, please don’t ask how I feel…_

Stiles looks at Derek and asks, “So what does it feel like?”

“Incomplete,” Derek blurts out. Derek remembers his mom and Deaton saying the bond feels different for all pairs. “I can ‘feel’ you in me. You’re like a weight in my head. Mom said she could feel dad, physically and mentally. When one had a strong emotion the other could feel it, no matter how close or far apart they were. She told me they _couldn’t_ be apart. Not just that they didn’t like to be, but they literally got sick if they were away from each for too long.” He thinks almost bitterly, _That’s why you needed to be sure, Stiles. No take backs here. God, please don’t let him take this back. I’ll die. I will die._ “But I don’t feel complete.”

“Oh my God, Der! Guilt trip much?” Stiles says with a laugh. “I told you when I talk to my dad and I meant it.” Stiles squares his shoulders and looks Derek in the eyes, “Then I will accept the bond. I’ll have to move out or you’ll have to move in.” He mumbles almost to himself, “It’s May and I graduate in June, so we’ll only be home a couple more months before my classes start Berkeley. We’ve talked about this. Nothing has changed. You and I will get an apartment and come home on weekends. Scott, Erica and Boyd are staying here and going to the local community college so the pack lands will be safe. We’ve got this. It’s all good.”

Derek stares into Stiles eyes for a minute. There was no stutter to Stiles’ heartbeat. He wasn’t lying. _Thank God. Please, please let the talk with his father go well. Please._ Derek pulls Stiles back into his arms and says, “It’s okay Stiles. I’ll wait. You know I’d wait forever for you. A couple of days is nothing.”


	4. Remembering the times we had together...

**Chapter Four**

John is able to clear his desk and schedule quickly and, after leaving Parrish in charge, he goes home early that afternoon to get ready. He calls the high school and leaves messages at the front desk and on the Principal’s voice mail letting them know he would be taking Stiles out of school through Friday.

Once home, he climbs into the attic to get the sleeping bags and tent. He’s beginning to get pretty excited about the trip and resolutely pushes aside any worry that Stiles won’t want to go. What kid isn’t going to want a free week off school? _Even if it means spending time with his old man?_

John trips against an old chest of his father’s and swears roundly. “Covered in dust just like most of the crap up here,” John mutters as he pushes it back a little with his boot. Then he immediately feels guilty. When his father died just after Claudia he’d just shoved his dad’s stuff up here because John couldn’t bear to look at it. He couldn’t bear to do a lot back then.

God, Claudia would kick his ass if she was alive today. She’d never have let Stiles get so far from them. John feels like a failure when he thinks about how different their lives would have been if she had lived. Shaking his head he wipes a hand across the top of the chest, noticing a marking that looks burned into the surface. _Huh, kind of looks like the symbol Stiles doodled all over his notebooks and folders._ He’d seen it when he searched Stiles’ room.

John remembersit’s called a Triskelion. He had looked it up because he wanted to make sure his kid wasn’t involved in devil worship, or some crazy shit, right under his nose. He might not have the “Google-fu” Stiles had when it came to researching on the internet, but he could hold his own. When it came to Stiles it paid off in spades to be on his toes. _Secretive little bastard that he can be_.

Just the thought makes him wince. He feels like a bad parent because he can’t trust his kid. _If only Claudia was here._ He shakes it off.  He promised Claudia he’d take care of Stiles and by God, he’s going to do it. _Better late than never._

He sees Claudia’s old sewing machine on his right and detours over to look at it remembering how much she loved to sew. He picks up Stiles’ old baby blanket out of a box next to the machine and can still picture her bent over the machine at the kitchen table, laughing at something he said, huge with her pregnancy and sewing this blanket. He remembers how much she looked forward to having a baby. How much his father looked forward to it too.

John moves away and quickly finds the camping gear covered with a thick layer of dust, having not been used in years. He’d loved going camping with his father. Loved everything he taught him about nature and life.

He realizes he’s still holding Stiles’ baby blanket and there, in the middle of his attic, in the middle of his day, memories of his father and Claudia and Stiles' birth come crashing through him.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

John's not sure what his father, Zygmunt “Zyg” Stilinski, had done for work. He knows whatever he did took his father out on the road often, sometimes for months at a time. John thinks it had something to do with conservation, or forestry maybe, because his father spent a lot of time in fairly remote wooded areas. Sometimes Zyg would take John with him to some great camping spots, basically just out in the middle of nowhere with only the clean air and quiet to keep them company, making it easy for a man, or boy, to just think and be without distraction. John grew up savoring those times with his father and fondly remembers lying beneath the stars next to a blazing campfire and listening to the sounds of wolves in the wild. When he was with his father he had never been afraid. He somehow knew his father would always protect him. He cherishes those memories.

Once he got married, he didn’t have a lot of time to go on camping trips with his dad anymore, but his father told John he understood. “When you have a son, we will take him together! We will pass on all I’ve taught you,” he would tell John in his Polish accent. After they found out Claudia was pregnant, Zyg spent most of her pregnancy in a frenzy of activity on the road. When John would ask why Zyg was running so much, his father would simply reply, "I must get everything prepared for him! He must have everything ready so he will be safe." When Claudia had gone into labor, John had worried his father would miss it but Zyg had just made it back to Beacon Hills within hours of the birth.

As soon as John came out to the waiting room to tell everyone it was a boy, his father had hugged John tight and told him, “He will be such a clever boy. A spark, then a flame, then a mighty blaze!” John had hugged him back tightly, not really paying attention, quite used to his father's cryptic, weird comments. He accepted the well wishes of the other deputies and friends who had gathered to wait and then quickly gone back to be with Claudia and his son.

It was tradition in John’s family for the paternal grandfather to name the grandson. John had always hated the name _his_ grandfather had given him - Janusz. At least he was able to go by the English translation, “John”. Zyg decided the perfect name for John’s son was “Przemysław Stilinski”. And God, wasn't John prepared to spend the rest of his life apologizing for allowing _that_ to happen?

Claudia had been pretty doped up the first time his dad said the name. When she was finally lucid she was horror struck. Unfortunately, it was so obvious how proud Zyg was of the name stating, “It means ‘someone who is clever or ingenious’. And he will be! You will see!” that she didn't have the heart to object. John protested and asked his father to pick another name; Zyg’s reaction was such you would have thought John suggested _burning the baby_ , so John gave up and accepted it too.

Later, when Claudia and John were alone in the hospital room with Stiles sleeping on Claudia's chest, she had shrugged philosophically and said, “Don't worry, John. We'll just call him ‘Stiles’. Then when he gets old enough, he can decide whether he wants to legally change it or keep it.”

John had rolled his eyes heavenward and said, "He'll hate us for it and I won’t blame him.” He smiled down at his son, pride wanting to burst through his chest. “I don’t think I can even pronounce it, can you?”

“We’ll learn.” Claudia chuckled as she patted Stiles' back gently and said, “Don't worry, love. If he’s half as clever as his name says he is, he’ll know it wasn't our fault.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

John comes back to himself standing in the attic, holding the baby blanket with tears streaming down his face. "I'm still learning, baby. But I'm trying. God, am I trying! Don't give up on me yet," he murmurs sadly. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away his tears, carefully puts the baby blanket back in its box, then grabs the equipment he came up for in the first place and gets the hell out of the attic.

When he comes downstairs he finds Stiles in the kitchen stirring a pot of something that smells great with a big ass dopey grin on his face. That grin scares the shit out of John.

“What’s got you looking so happy?” he wonders and then snickers when Stiles lets out a high pitched scream and turns around so fast he nearly loses his footing brandishing a wooden spoon. “Great defense weapon there, kid.”

“Jesus Christ, Dad. Are you trying to give me heart attack?” Stiles yells holding the wooden spoon to his chest over his heart.

“What are you making? And why are you so happy? And why are you wearing a scarf?” John asks.

“Um, Mom’s stew? And, uh, can’t I just be happy? And, um…Isaac is trying to make everyone wear one, like a new trend?” Stiles ends with a mumble while looking guilty. _It’s almost pathetic how my kid can’t lie for shit._

John lets the obvious lie go. “Yes, you can just be happy…but it seems to me there's gotta be a reason for it.” John tries to sound conversational as he opens the refrigerator and grabs a beer. He hates that he has to think about everything he says to Stiles lately. He tries to have conversations that don't lead to the kid lying to him. “Just wondering what put the smile on your face.” He turns back to Stiles in time to see Stiles turn a very unattractive shade of red. The scarf, his neck, red face… _Holy shit._

“Holy shit, kid. Do you have a girlfriend you haven’t told me about?” John says incredulously.

“What? Girlfriend? What? No.” Stiles sputters. “Why are you home so early?”

It’s an obvious deflection, but John, again, allows it. In 24 hours he’ll have the kid hours away from here and completely at his interrogative mercy. “I’m taking off a week. Going to go up around the Oregon border to a place my dad used to take me.  Get some camping and fishing in.”

Stiles widens his eyes almost comically. “Oh. But, uh, I was going to talk to you about…some stuff,” he trails off.

“Ah, kid. You’re coming with me. Already squared everything away with the school and I talked to Melissa. She’s going to have Scott stop by daily to pick up the mail and check on the house.”

“I’m going with you?” Stiles frowns a little, but John’s a little bit hopeful. At least Stiles doesn’t look mutinous, but more like he’s deep in thought. “You know Dad, I think that would be great. Yeah…you and me, camping for a week. It’ll be cool.” He steps away from the stove and digs his phone from his pocket. “I just, uh, need to make a quick phone call, okay? Oh, there's bread baking in the oven, can you keep an eye on it for me? This shouldn't, um, take long.”

John narrows his eyes and nods. _Subtlety, thy name_ is not _Stiles._ He thinks with a snort. When Stiles leaves the room John goes over to the door and opens it a crack, enough to hear Stiles’ side of the conversation if he strains.

“Hey,” he hears Stiles say. Then Stiles laughs, “Yes, I missed you so much I had to call within an hour of leaving your place.” Pause. “No, everything is fine. My dad’s home early.” Pause. “No, he’s okay too. That’s why I’m calling. He’s cleared his schedule and we’re going camping for a week.” Pause. “I can too camp, asshole!” Pause. “That was one time! The fire wasn’t even that big!” Pause. Then he gasps, “You take that back! That was _not_ my fault!” Pause. “You suck my dick with that mouth?”

John closes his eyes and rests his head against the door jamb. _Fuuuck._ His kid is involved with someone. Someone he just called “asshole”, which means unless he raised his kid completely wrong, his kid’s involved with a guy. _Ok, so Stiles is gay. Is_ that _what he’s been hiding? Why hasn’t he told me? He’s got to know I don’t care. I love him no matter who he loves. Oh, shit! Maybe he’s_ in _love?_   John hopes it’s not that Isaac kid. Sure, he’s pretty but that kid comes with a ton of baggage. He shakes his head and tunes back into Stiles’ conversation.

“Yeah, it’s going to be perfect. I’ll tell him everything, we’ll reconnect, there will be S’mores, we’ll come back and we’ll figure out the living situation.”

_Living situation?_ John thinks. What living situation? His eighteen year old son _better not_ be thinking of moving in with anyone. He suddenly wants to kick someone’s ass.

“I love you too. “ Pause. “Yes, forever. When did you get so needy? It’s weird.” Pause. “Oh, yeah, right. No, it’s not weird in that case. I forgot for a second.” Pause. “Jesus, I didn’t forget _you._ I just forgot the bond for a second.” Pause. “I’m wearing one of Isaac’s scarfs. I look ridiculous. Thanks so much.”

John has a second to thank God it isn’t that Isaac kid. Maybe it’s Stiles’ friend Danny? He doesn’t think anyone else is gay in that group.

“Yes. I will. Love you. I’ll text you, I promise.” Pause. “I will. Okay, bye.”

John moves back from the door and lifts the bottle of beer to his lips as Stiles comes back in the kitchen. He watches Stiles move to the stove and begin stirring the pot again. Stiles looks at his dad with a wide grin and says, “So road trip and camping. What time do we leave?”


	5. Wait...it gets worse?

**Chapter Five**

When Stiles gets up the next morning his dad greets him when he walks into the kitchen and says, “They just dropped off the rental.”

Stiles mumbles something incoherent, but his dad should know better than to talk to him before he has a cup of coffee and his Adderall in the morning. He grabs the coffee mug his dad holds out and after a few sips of the burning hot, elixir of life says, “What?”

“The rental just got delivered,” his dad explains again. “So as soon as you’re ready, we can pack it up and get going.”

“’Kay. Lemme drink this first,” Stiles says sleepily. He hates when people talk to him in the morning. Like he’s supposed to be coherent? He doesn’t understand that at all. Thank God Derek isn’t a morning person either. It’s yet another thing he loves about his wolf. He gets down a box of Pop Tarts, rips open a package and stuffs the pastry goodness straight in his mouth.

“Jesus Stiles, at least put it in the toaster first,” his dad says with a groan.

“Nope, this is good.” He tops off his coffee cup, decides to just take the box of Pop Tarts with him and leaves the room. He goes to the stairs pausing to look out the front window at the driveway. He stops. Looks outside again. Walks over to the door and opens it. “Dad!”

Stiles jumps as his dad says from behind him, “It’s the only one they had, Stiles.”

“You have got to me kidding me!” Stiles splutters. “How could you?!”

Stiles immediately goes to his room and texts Derek.

S: **Dad rented a brand new Jeep Cherokee for the trip.**

D: **Cool?**

S: **WTF? It’s sitting out on the driveway all new & shiny & giving Betty a complex.**

D: **You think the rental car is giving your old Jeep a complex?**

S: **She’s not “old”, she’s retro.**

D: **Is that another way to say ancient, antiquated and obsolete?**

S: **Watch it. Will u come by? Give Betty some luv, take her out for a spin?**

D: **Are you kidding me? You want me to pet your rusted out Jeep and then go driving it around? What if someone sees me?**

S: **Hey! Betty needs to last AT LEAST 4 more yrs, bc we can’t afford a new one.**

D: **I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can totally afford to buy a new Jeep.**

S: **OMG! Ur going to buy me a new Jeep?!**

D: **No, I said I could afford one. Not that I was buying you one.**

S: **Asshole.**

D: **Are you on the road yet?**

S: **Leaving soon.**

D: **Stay safe, love you.**

S: **Luv u 2. Deaton left msg the Mountain Ash I ord’d came. Wld u mind stopping by the Clinic ltr 4 me?**

D: **I weep for the American school system. Sure. You mind if I go after my work out?**

S: **No prob. Got 2 keep those muscles like I like ‘em.**

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

After enduring the silent treatment for over an hour, John stops at a McDonald’s drive thru for food and more coffee. After he finishes eating John says to Stiles, “Look, I swear to God kid, it was the only SUV they had! I didn’t get it to make Betty jealous!”

Stiles scoffs and replies with a surly “Yeah right,” and takes another enormous bite of a hash brown.

“I did _not_ get a brand new Jeep in order to make your rickety ass, held together with duct tape and rust, Jeep jealous. Okay?

Stiles looks slowly over at his father and asks, “Seriously, you thought that was an acceptable apology?”

John huffs out a breath and says, “I didn’t know I really had to give you an apology. We’re driving in real comfort, to a fantastic camping spot _and_ you get a week off school. Don't you think you should give me a little more appreciation than I’m getting?”

Stiles thinks about it for a minute and sighs. “Okay. Apology accepted. I’ll choose to believe you did not purposefully get this ride to make my ride jealous.”

“Thanks son, that’s real big of you,” John says sarcastically. After a couple of minutes of silence John says slowly, “So…how’s Danny doing?”

Stiles asks, “Danny who?”

John says, “Danny Māhealani? You’re not…I, uh, thought you guys were hanging out?”

Stiles says, “Uh, I mean, sometimes, but not really lately. He’s been dating a new guy, so he’s been pretty MIA for a few months.”

John frowns and says, “So…he’s not your boyfriend?”

Stiles jerks in the seat and flails a little. “My…what? He’s…what?”

John rolls his eyes and says, “I _may_ have overheard you on the phone last night.”

_What did I say on the phone last night? What did I say? Fuuuuck!!_ “No, I mean, yeah, I was on the phone with my boyfriend, but it’s not Danny.”

“Christ, it’s not that Isaac kid, is it?”

“No Dad. Isaac is with Allison.”

“Scott’s Allison?”

Stiles laughs, “Not for a while. Scott is with Kira. _Isaac_ is with Allison.”

“Wait a minute. When did Scott and Allison break up?”

“About a year and half ago. They broke up and got back together, it didn’t work out, so they broke up again and she started dating Isaac. She’s really happy now.”

“Oh. Oh God, it’s not that Jackson kid, is it?”

Stiles visibly shudders. “Ew, no! He’s such an asshole! Jesus, I need brain bleach for that image! No. Jackson and _Lydia_ are together.”

“Why is it the smart and pretty ones always date the biggest assholes?” John asks.

“Testify,” Stiles says and high fives his dad. “Preaching to the choir here.”

“So, wait.” John sits quietly and Stiles watches as realization dawns and horror quickly follows. John jerks the wheel to the right, pulls the Jeep over onto the shoulder and grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles go white. Slowly he reaches down and puts the car in Park and then turns and looks at Stiles and says, “I know it’s not Boyd, because I just caught him and Erica practically having sex in front of the Dairy Queen last week. So who are you dating, son?” John asks in a dangerous tone.

“Der - ” Stiles starts to say and John slams his hands on the wheel and shouts out.

“ _Do not_ say Derek Hale, Stiles!” The vein in his forehead throbs and his color reddens alarmingly. “Please tell me you are not dating Derek fucking Hale.”

“Dad, it’s…I…”

“He’s like 26!” John shouts.

“He’s twenty-one, dad. You know that!” Stiles shouts back. “Calm down!”

“Jesus Christ, I was worried it was that Isaac kid because of _his_ baggage and you’re dating Hale?!” John breathes hard.

“Dad, please calm down! It’s not as…well, I’d like to say it’s not as bad as you think, but it’s kind of worse and your color is really freaking me out right now and I really need you to chill!”

John screams, “Worse? It gets worse?! How could this possibly get worse?”

“Dad, I’m going to tell you everything…”

“Damn right you are, because this is bullshit, Stiles! Derek Hale? You better start talking right now!” John takes a deep breath, “Stiles, I swear to God, I. Am. Done. I am done with your lies. You better start talking.”

“Dad, I’ve wanted to tell you. For years, I just…I couldn’t!” Stiles says in an almost panic. “They voted and I argued, but it was six against one and I just…you know, I tried to make them…but…”

John interrupts, “What the hell are you talking about? What six voted for you to lie to your father?”

“Not my father, to lie to the Sheriff.” Stiles qualifies.

“Your father IS the Sheriff!” John roars back. “Who?”

Stiles breathes out and says, “The pack, Dad. The pack voted.”

John looks confused. “What? Is that what they call gangs nowadays? Packs?”

“Dad,” Stiles takes a deep breath. “Derek, Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Boyd and Erica are werewolves. We’re all part of Derek’s pack.”

John stares at Stiles and says, “You just can’t stop lying to me, can you, Stiles?”

“I swear on Mom’s soul, Dad. I am not lying about this.” Stiles pleads.

John stares at Stiles for a full minute. Then without a word, unlatches his seatbelt and gets out of the car.

Stiles whispers, “That went well.”

He watches his father pace behind the Jeep, wincing as his father is clearly muttering and waving his hands every minute or so. Stiles digs out his phone and calls Derek.

Derek answers cheerfully, “Hey, how’s it going?”

Stiles says morosely, “I sort of told Dad and he’s pacing on the side of the highway muttering to himself and looking like a crazy person.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Stiles mutters.

"Hey, come on now. You knew this would be hard," Derek says in a soothing tone. "I just wish you would've let me be there when you told him."

Stiles snorts and says, "I didn't want him to shoot you."

"It's not like he knows about wolfsbane bullets," Derek teases. Stiles loves it when his wolf's seldom seen playful side comes out.

"I still wouldn't want my baby getting hurt," Stiles says teasingly.

"Baby?" Derek asks. Stiles can practically see the eyebrows lift.

"No on 'baby'? How about sweetheart, sweetie, honey or love? Now that we're mates I think an endearment should be allowed," Stiles tries to say seriously. His mate's often-heard complaints about their pack members’ overuse of endearments has always been a source of hilarity for Stiles. As he watches his father in the mirror stop pacing and stand stock still he thinks he could use some humor.

"I don't want him to hate me, Der," Stiles whispers sadly.

"Hey! Stop that. Your dad could never hate you. Look, he's a smart guy. He's probably back there thinking about all the cases we've been involved with, or hasn't been able to explain, and putting it all together. You know he’s going to come back and demand you tell him everything. Just do it; total disclosure. It will be all right, Stiles. I promise."

Stiles takes a deep breath and says, "You're right. Okay. I've got this. Absolutely. Total disclosure."

Derek laughs a little at his nervousness and says, "Call me later and tell me how it goes."

"I will," Stiles promises.

"Good...I love you. Be safe." Stiles hears him take a deep breath and he says in a rush, "And, uh, I like 'love'."

It takes Stiles a second and his smile is big and broad. "Me too. I love you too. Oh, dad's coming back. I'll talk to you later, love." He didn't think it possible, but his smile grows at the possessive and obviously happy noise he hears Derek make before he hangs up.

John opens the car door and slides behind the wheel. He takes a deep, steadying breath and says, "Okay, kid. We're going to start from the beginning and you aren't going to leave anything important out."

Stiles quickly agrees. "Okay, so the beginning, I guess, would be when Kate Argent seduced a fifteen year old Derek in order to get close enough to the Hales to burn them all alive in their house."

"Kate Argent? Allison's aunt? The one I've got reported missing? That Kate Argent? Why?"

Stiles winces and says, "She’s not really missing. She’s dead and she did it because she was a psychotic Hunter bitch who’d gone rogue."

“Rogue?”

“Most Hunters have a code to only hunt the werewolves who do harm to humans. But Kate and her crazy-ass father started killing werewolves who hadn’t done anything wrong.”

John nods. "Did Derek kill her?"

"No, his Uncle Peter did. But that comes later in the story. So anyway, Derek and his older sister Laura weren't at home, so they weren't killed..."

"I know that part kid, I was there. I'm one of the people who helped Laura get custody of Derek. I also know Peter survived the fire because I was there when they pulled him out, and that he was in a coma for a couple of years. Move on to the parts I don’t know, please."

Stiles clears his throat. "Right, so after the fire Laura became the new Alpha of the decimated Hale pack. Since she was worried they'd be easy targets to other rogue hunters or even werewolves who might come after their territory, she took Derek to New York where they knew an Alpha who had been close to their mom."

"So, a few years go by, Peter comes out of the coma, goes on a killing spree, lures Laura back to Beacon Hills, kills her and takes the Alpha power…”

John holds up a hand. “Wait. How does one ‘take’ the Alpha power?”

“Oh, a Beta or Omega can become an Alpha by killing an Alpha.”

“Of course. Ask a silly question…”

“So anyway, then Peter bites Scott…”

"I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that one. Scott is a werewolf. Does Melissa know?"

Stiles grimaces. “Uh, yeah? She kind of found out last year.”

 

John narrows his eyes but waves a hand indicating Stiles should continue.

“Okay, so then Derek comes home, Kate shows up, Peter kills a whole bunch of people, kills Kate, then Derek kills Peter…”

“Wait, I just saw Peter Hale a few months ago…”

“Yeah, he came back from the dead.”

John tilts his head and says, “Of course he did.”

“Oh, I forgot! Peter bit Lydia too.”

“Lydia is a werewolf?”

“No, it turns out she’s immune from the bite because she’s a Banshee. And Peter used her to help resurrect himself after Derek killed him.”

“You realize that makes no sense whatsoever. But continue…”

“So anyway, Derek, as the new Alpha, needed a pack because packs mean strength and so he bit Jackson, Isaac, Erica and Boyd and made them his Betas.”

“Betas?”

“Yeah, wolfs come in three categories: Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. Derek is an Alpha. Jackson, Isaac, Boyd and Erica are his Betas.  See, only an Alpha's bite or deep scratch, can transform a human into a werewolf. A bite usually only has two outcomes, transformation or death.”

“Except Lydia, the Banshee, who’s immune.” John says sarcastically.

“Right. So Alphas have a limited telepathy and mental control over the Betas they create. Oh, and any bites, scratches and other wounds inflicted by an Alpha don't heal as quickly.”

“You left out Scott.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Is Scott a Beta or Omega?”

“Scott was a Beta but now he’s a true Alpha.”

“Oh, come on for…you know what? Whatever. Fine. What the hell is a true Alpha?”

“A Beta or Omega can become an Alpha through strength of character or force of will alone. These are called True Alphas and are very rare."

“Sure they are.” John sighs. “And Allison? Is she a werewolf too?”

“She’s a Hunter, like the rest of the Argent family.”

“She’s a Hunter who’s dating a werewolf? Of course she is,” John says. “Her father must be so happy.”

“Well, I think Chris likes Isaac more than he liked Scott,” Stiles says with a grin.

“And Kira? What is she?” John asks.

“Kira is a Kitsune.” Stiles can see the question forming on his dad’s lips and says, “A Kitsune is a werefox. In Kira’s case, she’s a firefox, able to handle loads of electricity and fire.”

“So she’s a fox dating a wolf.” John pauses for a moment obviously thinking about it and asks, “Does that mean you’re the only human in your ‘pack’?”

“Yes. Though technically I’m a spark so after I was accepted into the pack I was able to tap into the pack bond even though I’m human.”

“You’re a spark? Let me get this straight…yeah, nope. I’m going to need a better explanation than that.”

Stiles settles in and over the next two hours tells his dad the whole story, all the close calls, monsters, and everything, including the mating bond, leaving only sex with Derek out.  When he’s done he’s exhausted and John looks a bit shell shocked.

“You all right, Dad?” Stiles asks quietly. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but…”

“Kid, I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. But, I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Stiles immediately agrees. “Sure Dad. Anything you want.”

“I need you to not say anything for the next hour. Can you do that? I just need some time to process this.”

“Sure Dad.” Stiles mimes zipping his lips and throwing away a key. After a few minutes of silence he pulls out his phone and texts Derek: **It’s done. I told him everything. He’s taking it pretty well…I think.**

A minute later his phone buzzes. **I told you it would be okay. I wish you were here. I miss you so much already.**

Stiles types out: **I miss you too.**

Derek sends back: **I love you, more than anything.**

Stiles feels a warmth like he hasn’t known since before his mom died suffuse his body. He knows unequivocally he’s ready to take accept the bond as soon as he returns to Derek. Like a promise, he painstakingly types out the words he remembers saying to Derek. **My love for you is as endless as the universe, deeper than the oceans, and stronger than any weakness in me. My heart beats only for you and the love we share.**

His breath stutters out and his body goes rigid. He tries to move, to do something, but literally feels frozen. He can’t draw breath, can’t look away, can’t move a muscle. Vaguely he hears his father shout his name and feels the car as it’s jerked to a stop. In his head it’s like a door opens and he can literally feel Derek like a solid weight. He feels like he’s come home.


	6. Waiting for the shoe to drop...

**Chapter Six**

When Derek walks into the veterinary clinic he immediately sees Scott and Isaac standing and talking by the front reception desk.

Derek lifts his brows in silent question and Isaac says, "I just stopped by to see if Scott and Kira wanted to join Ally and me out tonight."

Derek tilts his eyebrows. He's found this method very effective in the past, as most of his betas often give more details then they meant to when he remains silent. "We weren't talking about you and Stiles," Isaac rushes out. Derek lifts just his left eyebrow. "Okay, we might have mentioned finding the whole ‘he hasn't taken my virginity!’ meltdown pretty funny." Isaac laughs. Then quickly stops when Derek growls in a dangerously low tone.

“Bro, chill," Scott says soothingly. "You know we don't mean anything by it. We're totally happy for you two. You know we are."

Derek stops growling. _Assholes._

"We just, like, thought it was a done deal already, that's all," Scott continues.

Derek sighs and says, "Stiles wanted to wait until he could tell John everything. So, that's what he's doing now."

Scott whistles low. "Wow. Well, yeah. I guess that makes sense. It's not like he would have held to the whole silence pact much longer. He's brought it up at every pack meeting. You know, except for last night's," he finishes in a teasing lilt.

Derek scowls at him and crosses his arms across his chest.

Isaac laughs and says, "I'm sorry! But who knew he was in such heat to get to the 'D'?"

_The "D"? What the hell is that?_

"So now he's got the big D and the little D!" Scott says laughing. He and Isaac practically fall over themselves laughing.

Derek supposes the confusion is evident on his face when Scott explains, "Your dick, dude. Because he's been desperate to get on your dick?” He abruptly stops laughing. “And now I have that picture in my head." Scott frowns and shakes his head as though trying to dislodge the thought. "Oh, God, I do not want that picture in my head."

"Man, now I have it in my head!" Isaac laments. He scrubs his hands over his eyes. "God, it's burned into my brain!!"

Derek chuckles darkly and says, "Serves you both right. I should give you both a blow by blow account just to punish you."

Scott and Isaac's eyes widen almost impossibly large and they both cry, "No!"

Scott says, "We promise, we won't tease you anymore, okay? Please."

"Whatever. Stiles asked me to pick up the mountain ash Deaton got in for him."

"Oh, yeah. It's in the office, I'll grab it," Scott says as he moves toward the back. "Give me a sec."

Derek feels his phone vibrate and when he pulls it out he sees it's a text from Stiles. **It’s done. I told him everything. He’s taking it pretty well…I think.**

Derek's smile is wide and a little wild. Isaac asks, "Is that Stiles? Tell him I said 'hi'."

Scott calls out, "Yeah, say hi from me too!"

Derek scowls and says, "I'm not telling him hi from you. Text him yourself."

Scott walks back with the large bag of ash and says, "Stiles was pretty excited about the trip. I guess part of that's because he's finally able to tell his dad, huh?"

"Yeah," Derek agrees absently as he types out his response. **I told you it would be okay. I wish you were here. I miss you so much already.** _My mate is making me into a sap._

“Is he telling him about the mating bond?” Scott asks as he places the bag of mountain ash on the counter.

He gets another text from Stiles. **I miss you 2. Where r u?** It makes him smile ridiculously wide.

“He says he told him everything,” Derek replies. “I guess that includes the bond. When they get back we’re going to move in together, so…”

Derek sends back: **At the clinic picking up your mountain ash. Have to go.** **I love you, more than anything.**

Deaton comes out from the back and absently says hello as he checks something on the computer.

"Wow. That’s huge. I mean to not only tell him about the whole supernatural but that he’s pretty much werewolf married and you’re moving in together. Sheesh. It’s a good thing they’re all the way at Chagutlsri Falls, otherwise the Sheriff might already be on his way to your place with a shotgun!"

Deaton looks over to Scott with a look of puzzlement on his face and says, “Where are they?”

"Oh, I might have pronounced it wrong. It's Chagutlsri Falls? That's where Stiles and his dad went. It's really beautiful. Plus, if John tries to kill him to keep him from being a teenage werewolf bride, he'll have plenty of space to run," Scott chuckles.

“Why do I know that name?” Deaton asks absently. He moves to the computer and starts typing.

"First," Derek says and rolls his eyes, "that man loves his son more than the breath in his own body. He wouldn't harm a hair on his head. Second,” Derek pauses as the phone buzzes in his hand again. “Don’t ever say werewolf bride again. It’s creepy.” Derek looks at the message, his smile blooms again as he sees Stiles wrote out their mating vow. **My love for you is as endless as the universe, deeper than the oceans, and stronger than any weakness in me. My heart beats only for you and the love we share.**

Suddenly, Derek’s breath stutters out and his body goes rigid. He tries to move, to do something, but literally feels frozen. He can’t draw breath, can’t look away, can’t move a muscle. Distantly he hears Scott and Isaac shout his name and Deaton telling them to wait, to hold on. Then with a sudden pop, his ears clear, and he collapses boneless to the floor.

Deaton helps him to stand and then move over to one of the chairs in the waiting room. "Take it easy, Derek. I expect the mating bond just cemented, yes?" _Mate…Stiles…love…mate._ Derek nods, but doesn't speak. He sits and revels in the feelings of total happiness, utter completeness, and warmth of love which suffuse his whole being. _It's mesmerizing. I haven’t felt this good in my entire life._

"The mating bond will take some getting used to, Derek," Deaton says. "Just breathe through the initial onslaught. It's very important to try to stay calm right now. Any strong emotions will be felt between you and can be quite overwhelming at first." _I’m calm. Oh my god, this feels_ so _good._

Derek continues to breathe slowly and basks in the overwhelming feelings. "This feels...incredible," he finally mumbles.

Deaton says, "Yes, I’m sure it’s lovely, but right now I need to know where Stiles and his father are going. Scott, are you _sure_ it’s Chagutlsri Falls?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because if that's the case, then Stiles and his father are in great danger."

_Danger! Mate, danger!_ Derek can actually feel his wolf claw to the surface at the potential threat to his mate. “What are you talking about?” He growls gutturally.  Derek immediately texts Stiles.  **CALL ME. 911.**

“Chagutlsri Falls is part of the Blood Moon clan’s lands. Why would Stiles and his father be going there?” Deaton asks with worry evident in his tone and posture.

Everything about Deaton is making Derek’s wolf crazy. _Mate, danger!_ “His grandfather used to take John and Stiles there.”

Scott says, “Yeah, I even went with them a couple of times when we were kids. What’s so bad about that clan?”

Deaton closes his eyes and says, “I’m forbidden to tell you.”

Derek roars and both Isaac and Scott wince and cringe away from him. “Tell me!” His claws elongate and his muzzle lengthens, his eyes burning with the Alpha power.

Deaton says, “I was forbidden by the Alpha of the Hale pack. Only the Alpha of the Hale pack can rescind it.”

Derek is momentarily startled. “My mother? My mother forbade you to tell us about the Blood Moon clan? Why?” When Deaton says nothing he yells, “As the Alpha of the Hale pack I am commanding you to tell me!”

Deaton sighs and says, “Because Thomas Everett, the Alpha of that pack, says he has Blood Claim.”

Derek freezes. He feels like his blood has turned to ice. His voice sounds rusty and hoarse. “Blood Claim?”

“What the hell is a blood claim?” Scott asks.

“A blood claim is a demand of vengeance that’s carried out by death.”


	7. Where Are We Going? And Why Am I in This Handbasket...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter when the "torture" starts and it gets dark...

**Chapter Seven**   

John’s heart slowly settles back into its normal rhythm. He nearly ran them off the road when Stiles had gone poker straight and stopped breathing. After nearly giving John a heart attack Stiles’ eyes return to normal and he explains, “I guess I accepted the bond? I didn’t know I didn’t have to physically be with Derek for it to happen.” He pulls aside the neck of his shirt and shows a John a white raised scar on his shoulder.

John stares at the scar. “How long have you had that?”

“Since last night,” Stiles says as he runs his fingers over it like it’s a touchstone. His grin is wide and his pupils are blown.

“Stiles, that scar’s completely healed. There’s no way that possible…”

“No, it’s, uh, the way Deaton explains it’s the werewolf’s saliva, and it heals it, but so that it’s a scar.” Stiles words are slow and careful. After again reassuring John that he’s fine, John restarts the car and carefully pulls back on to the road. Stiles painstakingly explains again about the mating bond. This time around John is paying much closer attention and actually asks questions. When Stiles finally winds down his explanation John’s mind is racing with the information dump.

Stiles hugs himself and smiles lazily at John. John frowns at him and asks, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like you’re high.”

Stiles shrugs and says, “I just feel really, really good, you know? Like really happy and safe and awesome.” His grin widens. John is getting seriously creeped out.

“Maybe you should call Derek and ask if this is normal, kid. ‘Cause you aren’t acting normal.”

Stiles takes out his phone and says, “Huh. No service. That sucks.” John makes a noise that could be taken as agreement. John’s mind races with the whole “mates for life” thing. Stiles says, “I’m feeling really good, but I’m really tired, Dad. You mind if I sleep a little, just ‘till we get there?” John makes another noise of assent. Stiles lays his head against the window and closes his eyes.

This leaves John with way too much time to think. John swears he’ll never forget watching his kid’s eyes bleed black. _Well, one thing’s for sure, any remaining doubts I had about all of this shit are completely gone now._

It’s not long before they reach the turn off to take them to the campsite at Chagutlsri Falls. He drives up to the place he used to camp with his dad, stops and parks the car, then sits there for a minute watching Stiles sleep. _God, he looks so young. And now he’s mated._ That creates a picture he definitely _does not_ want in his head.

_“It’s equivalent to a marriage except there’s no possibility of divorce,”_ Stiles had explained about the bond. _“So you have to be really sure about it.”_

_“How sure can an eighteen and twenty-one year old be about ‘forever’?”_ John had shot back.

_“You were twenty and mom was eighteen when you guys got married. How sure were you? If mom hadn’t died, would you still be with her?”_ Stiles had retorted and that shut up John quickly.

_But we were much more mature at eighteen and twenty than Stiles is._ Except…that argument doesn’t really hold weight. John knows Stiles had to grow up a hell of a lot faster than most kids. Now with the knowledge of just how much pain, death and horror his kid has witnessed or participated in during the last three years he honestly can’t say Stiles isn’t mature enough to handle a marriage kind of relationship. _That doesn’t mean I have to like it…or that I’m not going to kick Hale’s ass when we get home._ John happily fantasizes about “the talk” he’s going to have with Derek. His threat will be even more credible now that he knows about things like wolfsbane, mountain ash and silver.

He reaches over and gently shakes Stiles awake. “Sorry, kid. We’re here. I’m going to unpack the stuff, okay?”

Stiles rubs the sleep from his eyes, looks around and yawns. “I’ll help. Give me a second.”

Stiles hops out and goes around to the trunk. He begins pulling out their bags and provisions and asks, “Where do you want to set up?”

John points to an area about twenty-five yards from the Jeep and says, “I think that’s good. What do you think?”

Stiles shrugs and grabs some of the bags. He walks over to the spot John pointed to and drops their stuff down. “Sure, this seems like a good spot.” They work in companionable silence, grabbing bags and packs from the Jeep and bringing them over to their camp site.

Stiles is almost done assembling the tent as John works on building a fire pit, when John hears a branch crack to his right and sees a group of five men approaching them from the woods. John’s unsure whether it’s instinct or plain unease but he glances back at Stiles, then over to the Jeep. “Son, come here.” Stiles looks over and notices the men. From the way Stiles stiffens, John knows it’s instinct. _Something’s wrong…what’s wrong? What does he see?_

The men come over and arrange themselves in a loose circle around them, effectively cutting off possible escape to the Jeep, John notes warily. Then he notices what must have spooked Stiles. All five of the men are scenting the air almost continuously. _Are they werewolves?_

“Hello,” John says with as much cheer as he can manage. “How are you this afternoon?” He uses his best “there’s no trouble here” cop voice. The men move in a bit closer. Stiles moves closer to John, a tent stake clutched tightly in his hand. When John sees that he suddenly wishes he had his sidearm with him. _Something’s spooked the kid._  “Can we help you with something?” John asks tightly.

“You can tell me why a wolf’s on my land without my permission,” the biggest man says. John looks at him closely, noting his close cropped black hair streaked liberally with gray. _This guy’s built like a professional linebacker._ The man is well over six foot tall and looks like he’s all muscle.

“Your land?” John asks politely.

“My land. I’m Thomas Everett of the Blood Moon clan. Who are you and what are you doing on my land without permission?” He growls.

“I’m John,” John says slowly. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing. I used to come here with my dad and didn’t realize the land belonged to anyone. We’ll just grab our stuff and go.”

Everett nods to two of the men and they come closer to John. Everett sniffs the air and walks over to where Stiles had dropped his book bag. He opens the bag and begins to look through it, and John notices Stiles looks more and more tense. _What the hell does he have in the bag to be nervous about?_ Everett eventually finds and pulls out a couple of bags of herbs and ash. _Those are harmless, aren’t they?_ John looks to Stiles, who closes his eyes and groans.

Everett opens, sniffs one of the bags and rears back suddenly with a roar. He steps to Stiles and hits him with a vicious backhand.  Stiles spins around and hits the ground hard. His hand loosens and the tent stake rolls away from him. John moves toward Stiles and is immediately held back by the two men. “What the hell are you doing?” John shouts, struggling uselessly against the guys holding him.

“Why are you on _my_ land carrying wolfsbane and mountain ash?” Everett roars.

John’s heart nearly stops when he sees the man’s eyes turn blood red. _Holy. Shit._ “Don’t hurt my kid anymore! We’ll leave. We didn’t know these were your lands. We’ll leave!”

“What’s your name, boy?” Everett asks Stiles.

Stiles, lying very still on the ground, spits out blood and doesn’t say anything. Everett pulls back a leg and delivers a punishing kick to Stiles’ ribs. John just knows they’re broken. Stiles cries out and tries to curl into a ball to protect himself. John screams, “Stop it you bastard! Stop!”

“I asked you a question! What is your name, boy?”

“St…Stiles,” Stiles manages to gasp out.

A look of absolute wonder comes over Everett’s face. _He looks like he just got told Christmas morning’s come early. What the hell?_

“Stiles Stilinski?” Everett says slowly and a wide grin suffuses his ugly features.  “Of the Hale pack?”

_How does he know Stiles’ name?  Wait,_ _Stiles has a reputation?_

Stiles moans, “Yes.”

“So…you’re Stiles Stilinski?” Everett throws back his head and laughs with pure joy. “Oh, my day just got infinitely better!” Everett delivers another kick to the back of Stiles’ drawn up legs. John can hear Stiles’ grunt of pain and struggles against the two men holding him.

“Hey! Stop hurting him! We’ll leave, just let us go, I’ll take my kid and we’ll leave and never come back,” John pleads. _Christ. Got to get to the car. Just got to get Stiles to the car._

“Oh no, John, you can’t leave yet! I have questions…like, your kid is part of the Hale pack, but that doesn’t really explain why he smells like a wolf. I hadn’t heard you’d taken the bite, boy,” Everett says to Stiles. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and tries to curl into a smaller ball. “When did you take the bite?”

When Stiles still doesn’t answer, Everett pulls back his leg as though to kick him again and John shouts, “Stop! Please stop! I’ll tell you what you want to know, just stop hurting him!”

“Dad, no!” Stiles groans and John can see the panic on his face.

“Well, John. We have a problem here. See I want some answers, but your son doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. So I’ll tell you what, I’m going to break the ribs on his other side, maybe a leg or two as well, so I can get the answers I want and you can watch, okay?”

John feels nothing but panic. All his training, all his experience, everything is gone because this is Stiles, his baby boy, being broken and threatened. “No, he didn’t take the bite! He’s the mate of the Alpha!”

Everett looks at John as if trying to gauge whether he’s lying, then turns back to Stiles. “You mated with the Alpha? With Derek Hale?” The glee in his voice is unmistakable. “I hadn’t heard…Oh, this just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” He reaches down, pulls the collar of Stiles’ shirt aside, and studies the raised scar. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this interesting?”

Everett laughs, steps over to Stiles’ other side, pulls back his leg and kicks Stiles again. Stiles screams again, but it’s short and wet sounding. _Oh, God, did he puncture a lung?_

“Stop! Why are you doing this?” John screams.

“Because it’s fun to play with my prey before I kill them, Stilinski,” Everett answers with such equanimity John is taken aback for a moment.

_How does he know Stiles? Derek?_ “Why kill us? Is it because we’re on your land? Or because my son is Derek’s mate?” John asks. _Why is this happening?_

Everett shakes his head and says, “No, John. I’m not going to kill you because of Hale. That is just what we like to call a ‘happy bonus’. No, I’m going to kill you both because of _your_ father, Zygmunt Stilinski.” He moves slightly and kicks Stiles in the face.  “Because _he_ killed _my_ mate.”

John sees the blood spray from Stiles’ nose and uses the adrenaline pumping through his body to rip his right arm free from the man holding him and jabs his elbow to the guy’s nose, breaking it. He turns and hits the other guy with as much strength as he can and forces him to let go of his other arm. He turns back fully intending to run to Stiles when Everett is _just there behind him_ and kicks his leg above the knee.

John can actually feel the bone in his leg shatter. He goes down to the ground hard with a shout of pain. Faintly he hears Stiles cry out, “Dad!” but he can’t breathe or think through the god-awful pain. He wraps his hands around his thigh as he lay rocking back and forth and can feel pieces of bone touching his fingers. He manages to open his eyes and can see bone shards peeking through the torn fabric of his jeans. He can see blood welling over his fingers. Then he doesn’t see anything at all.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Time happens in broken fragments for John. At one point he feels like he’s being dragged, but the jarring pain sends him back into unconsciousness. He thinks he hears a woman chanting over him, but the pull of blackness is too luring. His eyes flutter open for a moment when he hears Stiles scream, but he’s sucked under again.

When John finally regains consciousness for more than a few moments he’s tied to a tree in some kind of clearing. His leg is bent at an awkward angle, but bandaged, and it’s all he can do to think around the pain radiating from it. _What the hell is going on? Stiles! Where is Stiles? Did I hear him scream? Stiles!_ He looks around frantically for Stiles and sees him.

At first, his mind just doesn’t process what he’s looking at. It takes him a full minute, whether from the shock or pain, his brain doesn’t recognize what he’s seeing.  Stiles is laying on his back, naked from the waist up, covered in blood and chained to some kind of rock slab in the middle of the clearing. “Stiles!” John cries out weakly. The man whose nose he had broken kicks John in the arm. John cries out and he thinks he feels it break.

“Oh, John. You’re up! That’s great. Though, we started without you…I hope you don’t mind? Good,” Everett says jovially. He turns back to Stiles and says, “As I was saying, Stiles, I need you to feel fear. Lots and lots of fear so you can draw your pack to you. Can you do that for me?”

Stiles spits in Everett’s direction and says, “Go fuck yourself, Fido.”

One of the men with Everett snickers quietly and Everett’s face goes puce colored. He lifts one of his massive arms and slams it down on Stiles’ stomach. His enormous body blocks most of John’s view, but he can hear Stiles retching.  Then faster than John can comprehend Everett is by the man who had snickered and John sees an arc of blood as it seems like Everett tears his throat out. The man collapses to the ground and tries to breathe through his ruined throat. John watches with absolute horror and a sick kind of fascination as the man _doesn’t_ die. _That should have killed him. Why isn’t it killing him? This is some freaky werewolf bullshit._ The man slowly rolls to his side facing John and John watches riveted as the man’s neck very slowly knits together. 

“Anyone else think Hale’s whore is funny?”  Everett yells. The rest of the men slide their stares from their fallen pack mate and stare at the ground in front of them. “I didn’t fucking think so!”

Then Everett turns to John and says with complete calm, “Well, John, it seems we have a lot to talk about. So tell me…whatever made you think you would have safe passage on my lands?” As he talks Everett runs a hand down Stiles chest in an almost petting motion. John can hear Stiles making hurt noises, but he’s blocking John from being able to see exactly what he’s doing to Stiles.

“I didn’t know we needed safe passage, or that this was a werewolf’s land,” John replies through gritted teeth trying desperately not to black out again from the pain. His world is growing black around the edges. _Got to hold on. Got to get to Stiles._

“No?” Everett asks conversationally. “I find that hard to believe. But, let’s say I believe you, John…why here?”

“My father used to bring me here.” _Believe me, if I had known this was a werewolf’s territory I never would have come, or brought my kid, you son of a whore._

“Yes…your father. Your father had safe passage once because of who he was, but long before his death his safe passage had been revoked.”

“What are you talking about? My father?” John asks his confusion evident.

“Do you not know?” Everett tilts his head. “How could you _not_ know who your father was? Or, perhaps I should say what your father was?” Everett chides. He sighs grandly, as though perturbed to have to explain things, and says, “Your father was one of the Council of Twelve.”

John is just blank. _What the hell is he talking about?_ “I don’t know what that is,” John eventually says.

“The Council of Twelve is a conclave made up of the most powerful mages, wizards, sorcerers, witches, and druids in the world. Your father was one of the most powerful of any of them.”

“What?” John doesn’t need a mirror to know his face shows total confusion.

Everett laughs and picks up Stiles’ left arm. Stiles whimpers and tries to move away, but Everett yanks his arm, holds out the hand to John and breaks his wrist.


	8. So....that's happening.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More torture, more pain, more angst.

**Chapter Eight**

“Stiles’ grandfather, Zygmunt Stilinski was one of the most powerful sorcerers ever born,” Deaton explains to Derek.

“Wait, what? I don’t understand. Stiles never said anything about his grandfather being like you,” Scott says with a frown.

“He _wasn’t_ like me. I’m a druid, we practice external magic and we have some ability, but sorcerers are born with magic. They are literally _born_ with power. Druids, wizards, witches, warlocks – they all build upon, or draw from, the magic externally using spells, potions…we need things to ground or enhance us, like wands and staffs. Sorcerers don’t need any of it. Oh, they might use some of it in order to enhance their inherent ability, but that’s the key, _it’s inherent_. An innate, natural talent one is either born with or not.”

“But John isn’t…” Derek texts Stiles again.  **STILES CALL ME. 911.**

Deaton quickly shakes his head and says, “No. John is what most people in magical circles call a ‘null’. He’s void of _any_ power. But Stiles…” Deaton trails off.

Derek growls low in his throat, his claws extending and he knows his eyes glow a burning red. “Stiles is what?”

“Stiles is more powerful than anyone I’ve ever known or heard of, period,” Deaton says simply.

Derek can feel his fangs begin to descend and his speech becomes more guttural, his wolf trying desperately to get free, to find its mate, to _protect_. “You never told him. You never told _me_.”

“Your mother forbade me to,” Deaton says quietly.

The shock of the statement is enough for Derek to pull back control from his wolf. Shock suffuses him. “My mother knew? What does my mother have to do with Stiles?”

“Zygmunt was one of the Council of Twelve, which is a basically a council that polices supernatural beings all over the world.”

“Well, they do a really sucky job,” Scott mutters.

Deaton sends him a sharp look and says tightly, “You try policing an entire country, let alone the world, then come talk to me about being ‘sucky’ at it. There are only twelve of them, Scott. Only one designated for this entire country. It’s not as though they have an army. They’re really only sent to investigate when a problem grows so severe it can’t be handled by a coven or pack or group individually, or if the problem is so out of control it could be brought to human attention.”

Derek asks again, “Why did my mother forbid you from telling anyone? What did my mother have to do with Zygmunt?”

“Your mother refused passage to Jackson Everett. Mainly because she believed him to be crazy and knew that his pack had been censured by the Council of Twelve. She had heard he had demanded a Blood Claim on Zyg, but not the particulars of the Alpha’s rage toward Stiles’ grandfather. By forbidding him passage she made it extremely difficult for Everett to get satisfaction for whatever revenge he was looking to dispense. As for Stiles, Talia forbade any of us from speaking of his gift because, I think, she was afraid if the knowledge came out before he was of age or came into his power it would be dangerous for him. Your mother had been good friends with Claudia Stilinski, and I believe she did this for her out of respect,” Deaton explains.

_My mother knew Stiles was a sorcerer. My mother protected Stiles. Protect Stiles._

Derek texts Stiles.  **GOD STILES CALL ME!**

Derek swears and almost throws his phone across the room. “He must be out of cell range.” He looks up at Scott and Isaac. “We have to go **now**. Call everyone, get everything you can, any weapons, _everything_. Isaac? Do you think you can get Chris and some of his hunters to help us?”

Scott waves his phone and says, “Already done. Everyone’s on their way. Lydia and Jackson are five minutes out. Boyd and Erica should be here in a minute. Kira’s mom is dropping her off in ten.”

Isaac nods and looks up from his phone. “Allison says she and Chris will meet us here in fifteen minutes. She says they’re gathering ordinance.”

Derek turns to Deaton. “Will you come with us?”

“Yes.” Deaton moves quickly, turns the sign in the door to “Closed” and says to Scott, “Come in the back with me, help me grab some supplies.” They quickly move away, Deaton telling Scott what he wants him to grab.

Derek tries to control his fear, rage and worry. Isaac moves up next to him and whines a little. “We’ll get there in time.”

Derek grunts. “We’re going to need a bigger car.”

“We’ll use my van,” Deaton calls out. “Scott can drive. I think I know a way for you to possibly communicate with Stiles through the bond. We can prepare you for it and try it during the drive. It’ll take more than an hour to prep and you have to be sitting, so that’ll work best. Hopefully it’ll work.”

“If it doesn’t?” Derek asks quietly. _I must get to my mate!_ His wolf is in a frenzy of terror and it takes all of Derek’s focus to not completely lose his mind and wolf out.

Deaton answers, “It will have to, won’t it?”

Chris and Allison Argent arrive with five of their men, all heavily outfitted. Within minutes everyone else arrives and they divide up into groups. Jackson, Lydia, Kira, Scott, Deaton and Derek get in Deaton’s van, and Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Allison, Chris and his men follow in their SUVs.

After they’ve been on the road for an hour Derek suddenly feels Stiles’ pain spear through their bond. “Deaton…Stiles…is in pain! I can feel him!” Derek shouts. The wolves in the car all shudder.

“Can you _all_ feel his pain?” Deaton inquires. All the wolves nod. “That’s actually very reassuring. Your mate bond is so young, I was worried that perhaps the method I‘m using wouldn’t be strong enough to make a connection between you two.”  _Mate…pain!_ Derek can barely think around the waves of pain engulfing him. _What is happening to you, Stiles?_

Deaton continues his preparations using a mortar and pestle to crush some herbs and leaves. “This takes quite some time to make “This takes quite some time to make and unfortunately leaves us only a short window where it's effective,” Deaton complains. “But it’s our best chance in trying to communicate with Stiles.”

After what seems like forever, Deaton finally sprinkles the concoction in a cup and swirls it around. He passes the cup to Derek, who wrinkles his nose at the smell of the brackish water. “Drink this.” Derek doesn’t hesitate. He just lifts the cup and gulps down the liquid, gags, but manages to keep it down.

Deaton says, “I need you to try to relax, Derek. I _know_ it isn’t easy, especially feeling Stiles’ pain, but you have to try. The herbs I’ve added will help.” Derek closes his eyes. His nerves are stretched to the limit and he worries ceaselessly they won’t be in time. The pain he feels from Stiles is unbearable but Derek welcomes it, knows that as long as he can feel Stiles’ pain, he knows Stiles is still alive. Derek prays he can hold on. _Hold on, Stiles. Hold on for me. Please._ He doesn’t want Stiles in pain but he’s deathly afraid of what it will mean if the pain stops.

Deaton clears his throat and says, “Okay, Derek. You should begin to feel more relaxed soon. This will allow me to take you into a kind of hypnotic state so you may link with Stiles through your bond.”

Derek opens his eyes and studies Deaton. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says finally.

“You must let down all of your mental barriers. Then you should be able to link with Stiles psychically. Maybe even enough to talk to him, to tell him you’re coming.”

“How?” Derek tries to tamp down the hope building inside him. _If I can just talk to Stiles…_

“Can you feel the tether tying you together?” Deaton asks.

“I can feel his pain,” Derek replies. “But I don’t know what you mean about a tether.”

“Close your eyes and picture a rope. Like you’re holding one end of it and you know that Stiles is holding the other end.”

“Okay?” Derek closes his eyes. _I can feel you, Stiles. Like a weight. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone. Please._ “I am.”

“I want you to keep your eyes closed and block out as much noise as you can. Try to only listen to the sound of my voice.” Derek closes his eyes again and tries to block out the sounds of breathing, of heartbeats, of the hum of the engine. “Just listen to my voice. I know it’s hard, but try to relax your body. We’ll start at your head. Feel the muscles in your face relax. That’s good. Now feel the muscles in your neck relax. Good.”

Derek feels his head loll back against the seat’s headrest and listens to Deaton’s voice.

“Feel the muscles in your back relax, Derek. Good. Block out everything but the sound of my voice and the thought of Stiles. Hold on to Stiles, Derek.”

_I’m holding on, Stiles. I’m holding on. You hold on, too._

 

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

“Your father was immensely powerful,” Everett says conversationally while his hand still moves on Stiles’ chest in an almost languid motion. John can hear Stiles moaning. “So is your son.”

“My son?” John can’t keep up with the conversation well. The pain in his leg and arm is excruciating and keeps pulling his concentration. _Someone please help us. Please._

“Didn’t your father ever tell you?”

John suddenly remembers his father’s whisper to him when Stiles was born. _A spark, then a flame, then a mighty blaze._ “I…I don’t know… a spark?” _If I can keep him talking…I’ve gotta keep him talking, if I can do that, maybe someone will come. Please, let someone come._

“Yes! Your son is a very powerful sorcerer. If you have any magical ability you can tell as soon as you meet him. Apparently it’s all over him, like a scent, or so my vargamor tells me.”

“What’s…a vargamor?” John asks.

“A vargamor is a witch bonded with a pack, John. While you were so helpfully unconscious, I had her look at you and your son. She’s the one who helped slow the bleeding in your leg. It wouldn’t do to have you bleed out or die before I want you to now, would it? She also confirmed what Stiles is and tells me he’s already powerful, if untrained, but potentially _very_ powerful.”

“A sorcerer?” _This guy is completely nuts. I’d_ know _if my kid was some magical being, for fuck’s sake._

“Yes, a very powerful one. Powerful enough my vargamor is terrified of him,” Everett scoffs derisively. “And now…now he’s mated with an Alpha werewolf and will be able to call upon pack magic as well? No. Even if it weren’t for the Blood Claim I hold against your family _and_ the Hales, I wouldn’t let your son step foot off my lands. He’s far too powerful to be allowed to live.”

“ _Please_ don’t,” John begs. _Not my boy, not my son!_

Everett scoffs, “No use begging John. I’m going to make sure he can’t do to anyone else what your father did to me.”

_Is this really about a grudge?_  “Wait, what did my father do to you?” John thinks he remembers Everett saying something before, but can’t really recall it.

“YOUR FATHER KILLED MY MATE!” Everett thunders. “Your father judged my mate to be too dangerous and executed her! Then Talia Hale refused passage on her lands so I could have my vengeance.”

“Why did he judge her? Why would Talia Hale refuse?”

Everett roars with rage. John winces and notices the wolves in the clearing all cowering. “My mate was a powerful witch. Zyg was afraid of her! Afraid of the power she’d been able to amass! So judged her, found her guilty and executed her!”

Everett begins to pace back and forth. “Talia Hale only knew I wanted to come onto her lands so I could kill Zyg and satisfy my Blood Claim. She told me she would not condone outright murder. It wouldn’t have been murder! It would have been justice! But that bitch wouldn’t budge!” Everett whirls around and manically grins at John. “Oh, but I bided my time. Eventually I found my revenge on the Hales. I made sure the right words were whispered in the right ear. About how the Hale pack was such a threat…” Everett smiles widely. “You never know what will happen when someone crazy gets fixated on an idea, do you?”

_Kate Argent?_ “Kate…”

“Yes, Kate Argent. I knew I could count on her to remove Talia Hale for me. I thought at first she’d taken care of the whole family, then I found out she missed Laura and Derek Hale completely and the uncle survived the fire.”

John hears Stiles moan and watches with impotent rage as Everett moves to Stiles’ right side and lifts his arm. Looking straight at John he snaps his arm. Stiles screams. “Ah, look who’s awake? Hello, again Stiles.”

“Stop…st..stop!” John feels the flood of saliva in his mouth and leans over to retch on the grass.

Everett laughs as he crosses around to the other side of the stone, picks up Stiles’ left arm and snaps the bone. Stiles doesn’t even scream this time, he just moans pitifully. John can feel the tears streaming down his face unchecked.

“I’ve kept tabs, you see. I make it my business to know as much as possible about the Hales. I always meant to kill the rest of them. Of course, the Hales have done the hard work for me themselves, haven’t they? Peter killing his niece, then Derek killing Peter. If it were any other family, I would consider the matter settled. But I do so desperately want that family dead,” Everett continues to ignore Stiles’ hoarse moans and John’s pleading. “Well, wanting them dead and the Hale pack’s land.”

Everett moves his hand down to the lower bone of Stiles’ arm. “It makes sense, I think. Your father killed my mate and the Hales prevented me from avenging her by keeping me off their land. Now, I’ll put Hale’s mate to death and take their land.”

“Pl…Please! Please don’t!” John moans as he watches Everett break that bone too.

“I’m really having fun though and that’s the important thing, isn’t it? To enjoy one’s work thoroughly?” Everett says with a laugh.

“You’re insane!” John groans.

“No,” Everett corrects, “I’m perfectly sane. The fact is your son will be far too powerful within a few years when he’s able to fully tap into his power. He’ll be almost unstoppable.” Everett shakes his head and casually lifts a hand extending his claws. “No, I’m doing everyone a favor. Left unchecked, he’d become more powerful than the Council of Twelve combined. It’s better to kill him now and save everyone else’s future.”

“Please, I am begging you, don’t kill him. Leave my kid alone!”

Everett laughs, “I can assure you that you both _are_ going to die here today. Neither of you are going to survive. First I’m going to kill him and then I’m going to kill you. Then when Hale comes here, which should be soon, I’m going to kill him,” Everett explains calmly. He carefully rakes his claws down Stiles’ chest and John watches horrified as blood wells and begins to trickle out of the wounds. John can see now the motion he’d thought earlier as petting, was actually Everett slicing shallow wounds into Stiles’ chest with his claws. _Please… let them be shallow wounds Please don’t let him bleed to death._ Everett cocks his head and pauses as if waiting to hear something. “Well, that’s too bad…looks like your son’s unconscious again. That’s alright though. We have time.”

_Yes, time. He thinks Derek is coming…maybe Derek_ will _come? I can’t believe I am actually praying for Derek to show up._

“You see, John,” Everett says conversationally, “I have two sons and both are Alphas. Which don’t get me wrong, I’m very proud, but it means I have to find some land for my younger son, otherwise there’s gonna be dissension here when I step down as Alpha. Once I dispose of Hale, no one will stand in the way, and his lands will do very nicely for my youngest to control.”

“The…pack...” John coughs, swallows hard and tries again. “Pack won’t let you.”

Everett gives out a deep belly laugh, “What? His pathetic bunch of teenage Betas? They’re children! They’re no match for my sons or my wolves! We’ll kill them quickly and easily, I can assure you. Then my son will have a legacy to pass down to _his_ sons.”

_They don’t know Scott’s an Alpha? Will that matter? Will it help?_ “They…they’ll stop you.”

“No. They won’t,” Everett says with absolute certainty. “They will either run or die, but they will not win. Of course…I expect most will die here today.” At John’s surprised expression, Everett tsks. “Oh John, did you think you were somehow stalling me? I assure you I have merely been waiting for Hale to get here. You see, I _want_ Hale and his pack to show up. They’re no match for my wolves. I have a pack that includes thirty strong fighters. Hale has five betas. I’m anticipating them all to die here and now.”

John struggles to hold onto consciousness. “Maybe won’t…come. Don’t know we’re here.”

“Didn’t your son explain to you about pack or mate bonds? I can guarantee they know where he is. I can also say with certainty they’ll be coming. Why do you think I haven’t killed you both already?”

John spits in his direction. _Because you’re a certifiable psycho!_

Everett shakes his head and looks disappointed with John. “Because, John, Stiles will lead his pack here through his bond. It’s better than a GPS, you know.”

John watches as Everett unbinds Stiles and turns him over roughly so he lies on his chest on the altar. He can feel tears tracking slowly down his cheeks as he watches Stiles lay boneless. At this point he prays that Stiles doesn’t wake up so Everett doesn’t torture him anymore. _Please don’t wake up, Stiles. Stay safe in the dark, son._

_Some prayers aren’t answered_ he thinks as he hears Stiles moan.

 

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Stiles is lying on his stomach on the stone altar. He doesn’t quire remember being turned, but he can feel the grit of stone in the wounds Psychowolf has been clawing into him for what feels like days. He can barely breathe, each breath feels like he is trying to suck it through a very thin straw under water.

“It’s ironic isn’t it?” Everett says as he peels off Stiles’ jeans.

_Why is he taking off my jeans?_

“Your son is probably the only one powerful enough to stop me and your father never taught him what he was or how to do anything.”

_If I were really powerful I’d kill you instead of letting you break my bones and use me as a scratching post._

Stiles moans and tries to say, “Get away from me you asshole.” But it kind of sounds like “Geroffme, ass” when it comes out. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t have the same impact.  _Am I naked? Why am I naked?_ “Naked?” He manages to get out.

Everett slaps his ass and then slides his hand over the print. “You know, you have a spectacular ass. Has Hale ever told you that?”  _Get your hands off me, you psycho!_ “I’ll bet he has. I’ll bet he’s just wrecked this ass, hasn’t he?”

Stiles can hear his dad struggling and slowly, but painfully, turns his head to see his dad propped against a tree, tied up and gagged, with his leg bent unnaturally. “Dad?” It’s hard to see out of only one swollen eye. He doesn’t know what happened to his other eye. He can’t feel his face anymore. _Huh. I can’t actually feel much of_ anything _. That’s a blessing, I bet._

Everett glances over at John and says to Stiles, “Oh, were you wondering why your dad is gagged? He said some very uncomplimentary things and I felt it best to prevent him from being able to say anything else. It was the gag or ripping out his tongue. But my vargamor told me with the rate he’s losing blood from his broken leg, any more damage and the shock could kill him, and I don't want him to die prematurely.” 

“Is this an altar?” Stiles slurs.

Everett beams and says, “Why, yes it is. This is where my mate practiced her magic.”

“Sacrifice?” Stiles manages to get out.

“Very good. Yes, she did blood sacrifice. This is also where the pack has been brought for punishment for generations. My pack’s blood has stained this altar for decades.” Everett runs his claws down Stiles’ back and he can actually feel his skin part and the blood seep out from the wounds. _But no pain._

Stiles shudders. He must be in shock because he really doesn’t feel any pain. He _knows_ he should, but he really doesn’t feel much of anything at this point. Everett seems to notice that too and says, “Now, now, boy. I need your emotions to be running high. We have to keep you pulsing like a beacon for your mate and his Betas to find, don’t we? So, what can I do? What can I do to bring your fear back?”

Everett runs his fingers over Stiles’ ass again and Stiles is sure Everett can hear the uptick in his heartbeat at the motion. _Oh, god, please don’t let him rape me._

“What’s this? Hmm. You know, I don’t normally swing your way, but your ass. Hmm. Your ass is so delectable, I think I can make an exception.” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut as he feels Everett press a finger to his hole.

“Fuck. You. Cocksucker,” Stiles manages to say.

Everett pulls his hands away from Stiles’ ass and lands punches to Stiles’ kidneys, upper back and face. The pain is so excruciating he passes out again.

 

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

“Now I want you to concentrate, Derek. Are you visualizing the bond?” Deaton asks.

“Yes,” he whispers. _He can see the bond like a thick rope and he cradles one end of it in his hands._ “It’s a rope.”

“Good. Now I want you to follow the rope, Derek. Find Stiles.”

 

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Stiles stands in a forest and breathes deeply. In his hand he holds the end of a thick rope.  He looks around at the trees _I know this place. This is Hale pack land. Derek’s land._ Stiles thinks he’s dreaming. Part of him knows this isn’t real. Part of him knows he’s still in that clearing, tied to that altar, being broken and bled slowly to death by Jackson Everett.

But part of him thinks this is real too. He looks down at his hands and counts ten fingers holding the end of the rope. Even if this is a dream he wants Derek. He needs Derek. So he yells, “Derek!” He looks around but sees nothing but dirt, trees and glimpses of sky. “Derek!”

Suddenly he feels strong arms around his waist and he jumps and whirls around. Derek stands there smiling at him. “Jesus, Derek! You scared the shit out of me! When did you get to be so stealthy?”

“I didn’t think I would find you,” Derek says grinning. “I’ve been looking for you.” Derek snuffles along his ear and neck. He peppers kisses along Stiles’ jaw and takes his mouth in a searing kiss.

Stiles holds the rope in one hand and wraps his arms around Derek’s waist. “I’m scared, Der. I’m really, really scared.”

“It’s going to be okay, Stiles. We’re coming. We’re coming to get you.” Stiles clutches a little tighter hunching a little to bury his head under Derek’s chin.

“Oh my god!” Stiles says as he remembers something Everett said to his dad, “Der, _Everett_ is the one who got Kate to come after your family! It was retaliation for your mom not permitting Everett on your lands to kill my grandfather.” Stiles’ eyes well up, “I’m so sorry, Der. It’s because of my grandfather…”

Derek looks like he’s been punched in the face. “What?” Total shock and surprise flow over his features but he quickly says, “No Stiles, it wasn’t your grandfather’s fault or my mother’s. It was Kate’s…and Everett’s...” He trails off and Stiles can see him rewriting his history in his head. Stiles hopes this gives Derek a measure of peace, to be able to let go of the guilt he’s held for so long that _he_ had been the reason Kate targeted his family.

Derek suddenly turns his head like he’s listening to someone or something. He growls low and Stiles turns to see an old man standing off to their side. Stiles squints because the old man looks familiar.

"Hello, Przemysław."

Stiles just stares at him.

The old man asks, "Do you know who I am?"

"I remember you, dziadek." Stiles looks to Derek and says, "This is a really weird dream, a really bad trip, or there are some magical shenanigans happening right now."

Zygmunt Stilinski waves a hand dismissively and says, "Dream, trip, magic, alternate plane...call it whatever makes you most comfortable."

Stiles holds Derek tighter. "Comfortable for what?"

Zyg smiles widely and Stiles startles a little to see his own smile reflected on an old man's face. "We have much to discuss you and me, wnuk."

"Do you now?" Derek growls softly. “Are you going to discuss how you kept secrets? How you endangered your son and grandson?”

Zyg spares only a short glance to Derek and says, "While I will allow you here, wolf, in deference to the bond you have taken with my grandson, I _will not_ allow you to interrupt or intercede. I am able to send you out of here easily. The druid is only just keeping you calm enough to remain as it is and that’s only with my help. Do not push me."

Stiles spits out furiously, "He is my mate! You will do nothing to him!" A streak of lightning crosses the sky above them.

Derek grabs his arm and says in a low urgent voice, "Stiles, be careful, he's a sorcerer."

"I know what he is, Derek,” Stiles pauses and frowns. “Well, I know _now_. Obviously I didn't before, but Everett has taken great delight in explaining exactly why my dad and I are being beaten and clawed to death." Stiles winces at the look of terror on Derek's face. He tries to pet him soothingly. "No matter what he was, or is, or what's actually happening here, the fact is he's not allowed to hurt you. No one is ever allowed to hurt you." More lightning streaks across the sky and Stiles can see the hairs on Derek's arms stand up.

Zyg throws his head back and laughs, then raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Fine! He stays, he can do what he wants. Fine."

Stiles is appeased and asks, "What do you want, dziadek? Oh my God! Wait! Is this my Obi Wan moment? Is this where you come to me as a spirit to impart great wisdom that will ultimately allow me to beat the bad guys?!" Stiles asks excitedly. He points a finger at Derek and crows, "Suck it, Sourwolf! I am totally Luke Skywalker!"

Derek rolls his eyes and says, "That would make your father evil, genius."

"Oh. Right." Stiles looks pensive before brightening suddenly and shouts, "Oh my God, I'm totally Han Solo and you're Chewbacca!"

Derek raises an eyebrow and says sarcastically, "I don't remember Han fucking Chewie. If anything I would think it would make me Princess Leia." At this he raises both eyebrows and growls, "I am not Princess Leia."

"Idiotas! Listen to me!" Zyg yells at them, exasperation written all over him. "Wnuk, I never thought you'd...I thought I would have more influence...and more time. I always thought I would have more time to teach you what you would need to know. I never meant to leave it to someone else," He finishes brokenly.

Zyg visibly gathers himself with effort. "Listen to me carefully.  You will need to call on the pack bond."

"I thought we were? Isn’t that how I’m here?" Derek asks, confusion written all over his face.

“No, you are using the mating bond and the druid’s knowledge to communicate here, but my grandson will need to use the pack bond to heal some of his injuries.”

“Why?” Derek asks suspiciously.

Stiles sees the look of grief on his grandfather’s face and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and says, "I think...because I'm dying, Der."

Derek’s response is quick and heartbreaking, "NO!!"

"Yes, wolf. I do not know how much time we have here so please do not interrupt me again!" Zyg says softly. Derek whines and pulls Stiles tighter in his arms. Stiles can feel Derek’s heart racing.

"Przemysław, you will need to call on the pack bond and use it to help heal some of your more terrible wounds. Your body has taken too much damage." Derek growls at this and noses over the mating bond scar. He mouths and licks at it. "I believe it may be possible to not only siphon some of the energy off your wolves to help you heal, but to also give you enough power to help your pack defeat the Blood Moon clan."

"I don't know how to do any of that," Stiles says skeptically. "Also, it sounds dangerous."

"I can show you enough here. Though, when you get home, if you go into the attic you will find a trunk of mine I left for you with my old journals, grimoires and a Book of Shadows. It will continue your education.”

“ _If_ I get home,” Stiles says fatalistically.

“You _will_ get home!” Derek roars. Stiles immediately pets his mate and tries to soothe him.

Zyg continues as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “You are an extremely powerful sorcerer, Przemysław. You just have to...tap into that power. Your power, coupled with the mating _and_ pack bonds, it is possible you will become infinitely more powerful than you would have been on your own and you would have been the most powerful sorcerer even _I_ could have ever dreamed of by yourself. _With_ the bonds, it’s possible you will become so powerful you will be nearly impossible to kill. Except, possibly by beheading,” he adds with a shrug.

“Well, that sounds creepy. It’s like a Jafar moment.” At Zyg’s blank look Stiles throws his hand in the air and yells, “Absolute power!” At his blank look, Stiles shrugs and says, “Whatever, the immortality angle is pretty cool though, huh, Der?” Stiles asks Derek.

Derek lifts his eyebrows and says, “No.”

Zyg makes a sound like a cough and says, “Did I say immortal? No, you’re not going to be immortal…everything dies.” He shakes his head. “Who would want to be immortal anyway? Everything and everyone you love dies before you. How is that ‘cool’? That’s what immortal is…you live and everyone dies…you need to think these things through better. Logic does not seem to be your default position.”

Derek agrees with a huff. “Immortal would mean I die and you live.”

“Oh, well, yeah, put _that_ way.”

“As I said, if you borrow some of the pack’s power,” Zyg continues in a frustrated voice. “You may be able to give yourself time to heal."

Derek tenses again and Stiles asks quickly, “Will it hurt them?”

“It is a fine line, between draining enough and draining too much. Let your instincts be your guide, to tell you how much you need. The mating bond gives you a blood bond with the pack, so there is a risk, but I believe if you are careful, they should only feel a bit tired and very hungry. You should know blood is always the most explosive catalyst in magicks."

“But ’siphon’ just sounds like it’s really dangerous.” Stiles says.

Zyg shrugs, "They'll recover."

“But there’s no way I could potentially kill them though…right?” Stiles asks as Derek shudders against him.

“Technically, yes, there is a chance of that, though I do not think you will. At most, it will leave them weakened for a while. With food and some rest, their healing powers should activate and take over.” He shrugs and repeats, “They’ll recover.”

Stiles stares incredulously, “That is seriously cold and messed up.” Derek murmurs an agreement but refrains from speaking. Stiles can feel Derek practically vibrating with nerves.

Zyg shrugs. “That is life. The weaker are used by the stronger. It is how the world works.”

Stiles just shook his head, “That’s not how _I_ work, dziadek.”

Zyg sighed long and loud, “Not how you work, not how you work…work how you want, wnuk! You must do this or die. You think your wolf will be happy for you to die?”

Zyg looks angrily at Derek and asks, “Well wolf? Do you want him to die, or would you give some of your and your pack’s strength to keep him alive and protected?” Zyg turns back to Stiles and continues, “Do not be a child! He has taken you for a mate. It means he would die to protect you.” Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but Zyg quickly waves his hand cutting him off, “Well, wolf?”

“I would die to protect him,” Derek agrees with Zyg slowly but looks only at Stiles.

“You see! He would protect you, no matter the consequences, Przemysław. So take what has been offered and LIVE!”

_Blood bond...blood…the pack’s blood staining the altar._ Stiles’ mind is racing and asks, “Is blood that important?”

“Bond is most important, but blood is always the most explosive catalyst,” Zyg repeats but looks curious. “Why do you ask, what are you thinking about?”

“Do you know of the Shezmu blood spell? I read about it in one of Deaton's books."

Zyg's eyes widen, "That is a very dangerous spell, grandson. It is all encompassing.” He looks lost in thought for a moment and then says, “You would need their blood for it to work."

"I have it," Stiles says coldly. "They have me chained to their altar. It's where any wolf in their pack has been taken for punishment. It's also where Everett's mate did her ritual sacrifices. I can practically feel it pulsing with power."

"Yes. I know the place. It is where Everett’s mate, his _witch_ ,” Zyg spits the word out, “practiced her sacrifices, I believe, to gain more power for her and her mate. The Council of Twelve was notified and I found her performing the blackest of magicks after killing some of her own pack. I only just managed to stop her in time before whatever plan she had could be completed. I was never able to prove Everett was behind the scheme, so I wasn’t able to kill him as well, more’s the pity. It seems his own pack didn’t do anything about him either.”

Zyg takes some minutes to think about Stiles’ plan while Stiles shivers in Derek’s arms. “The Shezmu blood spell could work, but you must know it is indiscriminate and once activated there is no stopping it. You will have to live with the consequences," Zyg warns darkly.

Stiles looks into Derek's eyes and says, "If it means protecting him, protecting my father and my pack, I can do it."

Derek asks, "Do what? 

"A spell that would kill them all." He thinks about that for a moment and amends, "Well, most of them."

Stiles watches Derek think about it. Derek asks, "Could you do that?"

Stiles says, "I don't know." He closes his eyes and breathes in his mate's scent. "I think I could to protect my dad, you, the pack. Everett has a lot of wolves, Der. We’re outnumbered and I think this would work. If it does, it would cut down on the number of fighters. But…would you hate me for it?"

Derek scoffs, "I would never, _could never_ , hate you, Stiles. I love you more than anything." Derek cups Stiles' cheek and says, "The moment they took you, the _moment_ they laid hands on you? They were all dead anyway. So you do whatever you have to in order to stay alive. I will find you. Just hold on for me. Okay, love?"

"Are you sure you don't think it makes me a monster to be willing to kill them all?" Stiles looks closely at Derek wanting to make sure. He takes a deep breath and voices his real fear. "You won't leave me?"

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles deeply. Then he pulls back and says, "Never leaving you. I'd follow you to death."

"What? No! No following to death! No dying, okay?"

Derek nods and squeezes Stiles. "Do you think _I'm_ a monster for wanting them all dead?" Derek asks worriedly.

"No, Der. I could never think you're a monster," Stiles says softly, trying to convey all the love he feels through his eyes for this taciturn, infuriating, wonderful, loving man.

"I love you, Stiles." Stiles can see the utter truth in those words in Derek’s eyes.

“I love you too, Der.” They hug tightly, each feeling the other’s heartbeat.

Zyg interrupts them and says, "Grandson, your wolf needs to go, the druid cannot help him stay here any longer. You will also need to rest now. You’ll need every drop of strength you have left to be able to tap into the bond and borrow from it if you want the strength to do this spell."

Stiles doesn't want to let go of Derek, but reluctantly steps away from him and says, "Remember, you'll all need energy, so grab lots of food and tell the others...be safe, ok? No dying, alright?"

Derek nods and then is just…gone. Stiles feels the loss of warmth immediately. He turns to his grandfather. "Is he okay?"

"Yes. The druid simply could no longer help him hold his connection to this place. If you want to know how he is, look at the rope in your hand."

Stiles glances down at the thick rope still held tightly in his hand. He'd forgotten about it as he'd held Derek. "Is this our bond?"

"Yes." Zyg says. "Now let me tell you how you're going to use it."


	9. It's all coming to a close.

**Chapter Nine**

Derek slowly opens his eyes and swears he can still feel Stiles wrapped safely in his arms. As he comes back fully he is bereft knowing he left Stiles there.

_"I think...because I'm dying, Der."_

He howls because the grief, rage, pain and terror are too much. The sound is deafening in the interior of the van and everyone who can clutches their hands over their ears. Scott nearly drives them off the road as the sound reverberates.

“Alpha!” Deaton yells and when that gets no response he hits Derek. This gets the response of a pissed off Alpha staring at Deaton with blood red eyes and a snarling mouth full of very sharp teeth.

“Alpha, calm yourself!” Deaton adopts a submissive posture. “You need to tell us what happened.”

Derek growls, “Pull over Scott.” When Scott hesitates, Derek screams, “Pull the van over, Scott, right now!”

Scott eases the van onto the highway’s shoulder and turns off the engine. For a couple of minutes the only sound heard is the rapid breaths of the occupants and the ping of the engine.

“Stiles is dying,” Derek says, his voice breaking on the last word. “He needs our help.”

They all fire questions at Derek so fast he can’t tell one from another –

“- did you see him?”

“-how bad is he hurt?”

“-his dad okay?”

“-know what we’re going up against?”

Deaton holds up a hand and shouts, “Stop! Everyone just stop! Let him speak!”

They fall silent and look at Derek. Derek doesn’t know what to do. Does he tell them everything? He hadn’t meant to just blurt out that Stiles was dying - _"I think...because I'm dying, Der."_ \- but his mind can’t stop fixating on that sentence. Just yesterday he could picture his whole life stretched out in front of him: finally happy, warm and safe. Now he fears he will never be happy again. _I can’t live without him. I can’t lose my family. Not again._

“Derek!” Deaton shouts and Derek thinks he might have been trying to get his attention for a while. Derek lifts his eyes to Deaton and he knows in the dim glow of the van’s dome light Deaton can see the desolation and despair there because Deaton winces visibly. “Derek, I need you to tell me everything you saw or heard. It’s very important that you leave nothing out.”

Derek nods and begins his recitation of what he saw starting with following the rope into the forest at home and finding Stiles at the other end. He tells them of seeing Stiles’ grandfather, Zyg, and Stiles’ concerns for his father, himself and them. When he’s done Deaton is visibly shaken. The others are silent, but Lydia and Kira are both crying and Scott looks like he’s not far behind them.

Deaton asks, “You’re _sure_ he said Shezmu blood spell? You’re absolutely positive?”

Derek nods. _A spell that would kill them all. Would you hate me for it if I did?_ Derek hopes it will work, he hopes they all die. If they don’t die by Stiles’ spell he swears they will by his teeth and claws. _They touched my mate, I’ll kill them all!_

“-catastrophic…” Deaton is saying and Derek tunes back in and looks at him.

“What?”

“That spell is extremely dangerous, Derek.” Deaton closes his eye for a moment as if trying to recall something. “If I remember correctly it’s a consumptive spell. You said Stiles told Zyg he had the blood of some of the pack?”

“Yes. He said he was tied to an altar where Everett’s pack has been punished for generations and where his mate performed ritual sacrifices.”

Deaton nods. “Well yes, that would do it. It’s already a place of magic, which is probably why the witch had used it in the first place. The Shezmu blood spell uses their blood against them. It’s a terrible spell because once it’s been triggered there is no stopping it. It’s like a…inextinguishable fire. It will race through their blood totally.” Deaton cringes. “There’s a reason it’s forbidden.”

Derek sits up and says anxiously, “Forbidden? Will Stiles get in trouble? Will that Council of Twelve show up or something?”

Deaton shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean ‘forbidden’ as in if he does it he’ll be punished, I meant forbidden as in no one uses it because it’s a cleansing of the blood. It’s heinous. It’s more terrible than you could possibly imagine.”

Scott says, “They were all going to die for touching Stiles and the Sheriff anyway, Deaton. One way or the other.” Hearing the conviction and hatred in Scott’s voice seems to get through to Deaton as nothing Derek could have said would. To hear Scott who is always so gentle, always looking for the peaceable solution, call for death visibly jars the druid.

Derek says, “Zyg said Stiles would need to siphon some of the pack’s strength to help heal his wounds and perform the spell. He said it could be dangerous…”

“It is extremely dangerous, Derek.” Deaton cautions.

“How dangerous are we talking about?” Jackson interjects. “As dangerous as the blood spell thing?”

Derek turns around in his seat so quickly even the Betas don’t see him move. He wraps his hand around Jackson’s throat and says, “He. Is. My. Mate. If he needs to drain me dry I. Will. Let. Him. Do you understand? I don’t care how dangerous it is. Do you have a problem with that?”

Jackson’s face clearly shows that yes he does have a problem with it but he says, “No, Alpha.”

Derek looks at Lydia and says, “Lydia, you need to switch with Scott. When Stiles pulls the energy he needs we’ll need food and rest, no wolf can be behind the wheel. We don’t have enough time for rest, so we’ll have to do with food. Pull off at the next exit and go through a drive-thru. We’ll need meat.”

Lydia open the door and slides out exchanging places with Scott, but once she’s behind the wheel and pulling back onto the highway she says quietly, “You need to explain about the draining, Derek. Because even though _you_ may be willing to allow Stiles to drain you dry, I don’t think the rest of the pack should have to possibly die too.”

Deaton is the one who answers her. “Zygmunt was very powerful and he was…cold. While I wouldn’t normally have thought he’d care if Stiles ends up taking too much energy as long as Stiles lives, I think knowing the bonds between you he will help Stiles maintain the balance of what he takes.”

Derek shakes his head and says, “I trust Stiles completely. I don’t believe he’ll take too much from us.”

“It’s the ‘us’ part I’m having trouble with,” Jackson snaps. “I realize he’s your mate and you would die for him, but I don’t even really like Stilinski. I sure as hell don’t plan on dying for him.”

Before Derek can speak Scott says with a low growl, “Listen up Jackson. I don’t care if you like him or not. You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut, go along and not get in the way or I’ll kill you myself.” Everyone seems stunned except Derek. Derek knows Scott loves Stiles as if they were natural brothers. He knows Scott is the one person in the pack he _won’t_ have to convince.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick here, okay? But Stiles is talking about _draining_ us right before we have to go into a fight. It can’t only be me that finds a massive flaw in that, right? I mean, shouldn’t we all be in peak condition to go fight a bunch of other werewolves? Derek you said yourself: Stiles said there were a lot of wolves and they were all fighters.” Jackson looks around the van for support. “I’m just saying.” He growls as he slumps in his seat.

Deaton says, “If I remember the spell I think he’ll use, the draining _should_ be mitigated by consumption of an enormous amount of food, especially protein; meat. If you eat a substantial amount then the energy he takes spread amongst the six of you shouldn’t exact too much of a toll.”

Derek says, “Zyg says with the transfer of energy from us Stiles will be able to partially heal some of the more terrible wounds he has, at least enough to stay alive, and hopefully enough to perform the blood spell.”

Lydia pulls into a drive-thru and they order enough food for a battalion. Kira turns in the seat to look back at Derek and says, “I have Allison on the phone, they want to know what the hell is going on.” She passes the phone back to Derek and he explains what’s happening. By the time he’s done explaining Chris decides they’ll grab food for the wolves riding with him so both SUV’s stop and get food as well. Within minutes they’re back on the road, the wolves all eating as quickly as they can.

“How much longer do you think it is?” Derek asks Scott.

“If I remember correctly we’re pretty close. The exit should be coming up pretty soon.” Scott replies through a mouthful of hamburger.

Derek stops eating, shocked, a hamburger inches from his mouth. “How can we be that close? They were hours away.”

Scott grins and pushes a handful of fries in his mouth. “Bro, you were out for like two hours.” After swallowing he says, “Time flies when you’re on a weird acid trip huh?”

Derek is stunned. It seemed like he had only spent minutes with Stiles. “Time moves differently in some planes,” Deaton explains. “It may have seemed a much shorter time to you but it was actually quite a bit longer.”

_"I think...because I'm dying, Der."_

“Stiles says we have to be safe and no dying. So let’s eat and go over the plan so we don’t disappoint him, okay?" Derek says after a minute. He eats some more and then says, “Get Chris and Allison on speaker. We all need to be on the same page.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ 

Stiles wakes up back on the altar still lying on his stomach, still chained and naked, but Everett isn’t touching him any longer. _I don’t think he raped me…Thank god for small favors._ He closes his eyes again and tries to take a deep, centering breath but finds it’s almost impossible to breathe deeply.

He’s pretty sure his ribs are broken, and if he _doesn’t_ have a punctured lung he’s going to be more shocked than anyone. Again he tries to take a centering breath, this time a little more successfully and, picturing the pack in his mind like Zyg told him, he begins to siphon their energy.

_Do not linger on any one person for too long, Przemysław. The longer you linger, the more you take. The more you take the higher chance to kill._

He begins to picture specific times with each pack member.

_The first time he met Scott in kindergarten on the playground at school._

_Isaac wearing his stupid scarf laughing while holding Allison’s hand._

_Erica being both frightening and beautiful teasing him while holding a dildo._

_Boyd being all silent and stoic while watching over them like some kind of hulking sentry._

_The first time he kissed Derek and the absolute surprise on Derek’s face._

_The time Scott climbed into the closet to sit with him after his mom died and the world was just too big._

_Isaac bringing home a bird with a broken wing pleading with Derek to take it to Deaton to be fixed._

_Erica lying on his bed coaching him on how to seduce Derek._

_Boyd laughing at Isaac after Derek had thrown him in the lake on one of their hikes._

_The first time Derek told him he loved him._

_Scott holding his hand at his mother’s funeral._

_Scott badgering him to join the Lacrosse team even though neither of them were sporty or had coordination and Scott had terrible asthma._

_Talking Scott into searching the Preserve for a dead body._

_The first time he saw Derek again after Scott had been bitten._

_When he told Scott he thought he was gay and in love with Derek._

_The first time he told Derek he loved him._

_The first time he and Derek made love._

_The mating bite. His love. Derek._

With a gasp Stiles wrenches open his eyes and stops drawing the pack’s energy. He’s horrified because the last thoughts he had were all of Scott and Derek on a loop. _The more you take, the higher chance to kill._

Zygmunt had told him how to send a pulse through the bond to check on the wolves. Stiles sighs in relief when he can “feel” them all safe on the other end. He takes a deep breath and realizes that he can _breathe_. He takes in another deep breath and begins to prepare the Shezmu blood spell.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ 

John is still gagged and tied to the tree. He feels particularly unwell, has since he saw Everett almost rape Stiles. John sent up a prayer when Stiles had lost consciousness again and he’d heard Everett complain, “No use raping him when he’s out. That won’t spike his fear and bring the wolves here.”

Now John’s short of breath and thinks maybe he’s having a heart attack…if the pain radiating down his left arm is an indication. Of course, that could also be because his arm is broken, but given his history he thinks an attack or stroke is more likely. _If we get through this Stiles is never going to let me eat another greasy burger._

He sends a prayer that even if he doesn’t make it out of this Stiles will. He looks at Stiles and _does he look better? I swear he_ looks better _. Is he breathing easier?_ One of the things that had terrified John the most was hearing those wheezing, wet breaths…but he doesn’t hear them now. Stiles’ breaths sound clear.

John hears something in the distance…gunfire? Everett suddenly returns from wherever he’d gone after Stiles passed out and begins shouting to his men, “Get out there! It’s got to be Hale! Bring him to me!”

There’s more gunfire and John can see bright white lights flaring through the trees. _Whatever’s happening is a hell of a lot more than six wolves._ John forces his attention back to Stiles in time to see Everett pulling back a claw to deliver the killing blow.

“NO!” John screams from behind the gag and then stills in shock when Everett suddenly freezes in mid-motion. _That worked?_ He’s incredulous that worked. Then he notices the other wolves that had stayed behind with Everett were frozen too. _Shit, am I magic too?_

Everett clearly appears to be struggling but whatever is binding him seems to be holding.

John startles as suddenly someone beside him and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it’s Derek. “Took you long enough!” He grouses. _That would have had more impact if I wasn’t gagged._ Derek spares him a sarcastic twitch of his eyebrows before ripping through the rope and removing his gag. “Took you long enough!”

“Are you okay for a minute?” Derek asks already looking over at Stiles.

“Yeah, go!” John urges him. Derek vaults across to Stiles and snarls when he can’t break the chains holding him to the altar.

“Derek.” Stiles says softly his eyes devouring Derek’s face. John recognizes that look. That was the look that used to be on his face when he looked at Claudia. He sighs and feels grateful his son will have someone to look after him. The pain in his chest and arm spikes.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ 

Stiles has never seen a more beautiful sight than Derek in front of him now. Derek is snarling savagely at not being able to break the chains. “Look in his pocket for the key, love.” He whispers to Derek. The power is raging in him. The Shezmu blood spell has been invoked and he can feel it already moving through the wolves. He can feel them all dying. Not just the wolves in the clearing but any wolf whose blood touched the altar he’s on and any of their descendants as well.

Stiles knows, without a doubt, that he may easily kill everyone in the clearing, and perhaps the entire town. _How great and terrible is my vengeance._ The spell is indiscriminate in who it touches, and like Zyg said cannot be stopped. _I am a monster._ He looks at Derek standing safe and unbloodied and whole. He can feel his pack through the bond healthy and whole and thinks, _It’s worth it to protect them…to protect_ him.

Derek moves to Everett who is still standing frozen. Everett has a look of shock on his face and Derek asks Stiles, “Is this part of the spell?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispers. “It’s almost finished working. It’ll be only moments now.”

Suddenly the frozen wolves all begin to convulse. Their blood begins to trickle through any orifice, then ooze, then flow. Derek finds the key in Everett’s pocket and says quietly to him, “I hope it’s fucking painful you piece of shit. I hope you and yours rot in hell.”

Without a backward glance Derek turns to Stiles and unchains him.  “I love you, Derek. Just…know…that…you were the best thing that ever happened to me. Wouldn’t give up one second of our time together since I first met you,” Stiles whispers.

“I love you too Stiles. Shh. It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you help. You’ll be okay.” When Derek sees all the wounds on his back and legs, then gently turns him over to see the many wounds all over his chest and stomach as well as the black blood-filled areas under his pale skin where it’s obvious bones have been broken, he throws back his head and howls.

Stiles passes out.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Derek’s howl brings the pack and the hunters straight to him. Chris gets on a satellite phone and relays directions and coordinates for a life flight unit to be dispatched; the call of “officer down” cutting through any bureaucratic red tape.

Two of Chris’s men begin triage on John and Stiles. The medic working on John calls out to Chris, “Boss, got a compound fracture of the femur and possible heart attack happening.”

Scott rushes over to John, stepping over the bodies of the dead wolves on his way.

Derek holds Stiles hand as the other man catalogues Stiles wounds. “Looks like multiple broken ribs, as well as his collarbone, nose and cheekbone, maybe his legs too? Can’t tell too much through all the claw marks, though.” Derek snarls at him and the guy just shrugs. Derek wants to pull off his arm and beat him to death with it.

“Is that it?” Jackson asks looking around. Chris’s men are loosely ranged in a circle around them with guns and crossbows pointed out into the night, but Derek realizes there are no sounds other than their own. He hears no other heartbeats.

“Is what it?” Derek replies not taking his eyes off Stiles.

“Is the fight over?”

“Yes. They’re all dead.”

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Jackson says with a sniff. He catches a look Lydia gives him and shrugs. “I just…there was all this build up for a ‘Big Battle’ right? But we get here and the hunters shoot a couple guys and let off a couple of flash bolts, then Stilinski actually pulls it off and all the other wolves freeze and bleed to death. Is no one else let down just a little?”

“No,” Lydia snaps. “Shut up.”

As they stand looking at the carnage around them, Deaton says, “The love Stiles has for you must be quite deep for him to have pulled as much power from the pack as this required without harming any of you.”

Chris snorts and says, “Yeah. Nothing says love like mass murder.”

Derek growls at him and says, “Hunters better not come after my mate for this…”

Chris holds up a hand and laughs, “First, I can pretty much guarantee any hunter or wolf who hears about this is going to stay far, far the fuck away from Stiles and your pack. Second, Stiles is technically human and that falls under his father’s jurisdiction, not ours. He’s the Sheriff’s problem.” Chris looks over at Allison and says, “Frankly, I’ve had my doubts in the past about whether my daughter being involved with your pack was safe, but now? I have no worries.” He chuckles some more as he ambles over to the medic working on John.

The medivac copter touches down within minutes. There’s a quick debate about taking them to Beacon Hills and how long the flight would be versus taking them to a local hospital for immediate treatment of their injuries. The doctor on the life flight team ends the debate by telling them they have to be taken to a life flight trauma center for initial stabilization. He assures the group they can be transported to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital after they’ve been evaluated and stabilized.

John begins to code and the doctor rushes over to him barking orders to his team and they quickly strap him down and take him away. They secure Stiles to a backboard and then pack him into the helicopter as well. They won’t let Derek on the helicopter.

He’s left watching helplessly as it takes off holding the love of his life.


	10. ...and they all live happily ever after.

**CHAPTER TEN**

Stiles’ injuries include multiple fractures in both arms, eight broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a fractured collarbone, bruised kidneys and spleen, broken nose and a zygoma fracture. He’s immediately taken into surgery to fix his lung and broken arms.

He ends up requiring over three hundred stitches in various places on his back, chest, arms and legs. Deaton and the rest of the pack have a hell of a time getting the x-rays and scans in order to destroy them.

They agree their official story of Stiles and John’s injuries is a tree fell on them and while Stiles was trapped under the tree wild animals found and tried to eat him. They later learn the CDC has been called out to explain the mysterious deaths of over one hundred people in the Chagutlsri Falls area. Their deaths are initially attributed to some terrible virus. Tests are ongoing.

After John’s heart attack he undergoes coronary artery bypass graft surgery. While they have him in the operating room they also perform orthopedic surgery on his leg. The surgery on John’s leg is a complete success and he’s assured with physical therapy he’ll make a full recovery. The orthopedic surgeon also informs him his arm will heal without issue. They all breathe a little easier knowing John will be back on the job within a couple of months.

After their initial stabilization and surgeries, Stiles and John are airlifted to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital where Derek refuses to leave Stiles’ side. Melissa makes sure he’s allowed to stay with Stiles in the ICU even though it’s against the rules.

Melissa spends a lot of time destroying the x-rays and scans taken of Stiles’ injuries before they can be filed. After a pack discussion it was agreed Stiles would continue to draw on the pack bond to heal. It means they all have to eat more often and will be a bit more tired than usual, but they all agree it’s worth it. His healing rate, while still slower than a werewolf, is so far advanced of a normal human Melissa and John begin to worry some government official is going to show up and take Stiles away.

The plastic surgeon is amazed when his stitches have to be removed on the third day. He tells Stiles and Derek he believes the scars will heal entirely. He keeps repeating he’s never seen anything like it.

After three days in the hospital John is released and Scott takes him home. Scott brings Stiles a few of Zygmunt’s journals to read to keep from exploding of boredom. Sometimes he reads out loud to Derek when he comes across a particularly crazy story. Stiles spends a total of four days in the hospital before he’s allowed to go home.  The doctors and nurses say his recovery is “miraculous”.

Once John and Stiles are released Derek quickly moves some of his things into Stiles’ room. Stiles, John and Derek agree it’s best for Derek to move in with the Stilinskis until Stiles and Derek leave for Berkeley. They also agree to have their pack meetings at the house and to include John, Melissa and Chris. After much debate, Derek allows John to tell a couple of his most trusted deputies about the werewolves.

John and Derek’s relationship is incredibly different. They spend a lot of time talking about John’s old case files and Derek explains all the times the supernatural was involved. John tells Derek he’s impressed with all the times Derek has proven to have protected his son. Derek puffs with pride only to deflate a moment later when John says, “I’m even more impressed with the number of times _he’s_ protected _you_.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd throw a barbeque at John’s house a week after John and Stiles get out of the hospital to welcome them home. Derek settles both John and Stiles on the back deck so they can enjoy the beautiful day and interact with everyone. Derek leans over and gives Stiles a long kiss before saying, “I’ve got to make those calls. I’ll be back in a few, okay?” Stiles nods and bumps his forehead softly to Derek’s in acknowledgement.

John looks away from the kiss and tries to ignore them. He often tries to ignore the fact that Derek is having sex with his son, living in his house, and moving in with his kid into their own apartment in a couple of months. Sometimes he pretends they’re just roommates. It’s harder to pretend when he comes home early from a doctor’s appointment to find Derek on his knees in front of Stiles swallowing his son’s cock whole.

John shudders. He’ll need industrial brain bleach to remove that visual from his head. _And the sounds…_ He shudders again.

“You cold?” Stiles asks from the lounge chair next to him. “I can ask Derek to get you a blanket.”

John remembers the blanket draped on the couch behind Stiles as Derek… “No.” John coughs out. “No, not cold.”

Stiles looks at him with a curious expression on his face until it suddenly clicks. He starts laughing, “Thinking about me getting blown by Derek again, huh?”

“I swear to Christ, kid. I’m suffering from PTSD from it. I’ll get over the shit with Everett one day, but that image is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.” Stiles laughs until he has to cradle an arm against his ribs. “How’s the bones, kid?” John asks with concern.

“Deaton took more x-rays this morning and he says I’ll probably get all the casts off by the end of the week.”

“That’s good.” John says. He’s craving a beer and he looks around for Derek. “Who is Derek calling anyway?”

“Oh. He got a request from an Alpha to pass through our land. He’s having Deaton make some inquiries before he grants their request.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “He’s way overprotective now. It’s ridiculous.”

“Especially considering what you can do.” John says. When he woke up in the hospital and they had explained to him what had happened and what Stiles had done…he’d never admit it out loud but he was glad. To know his kid would never have to worry about that pack, or any other, was a weight lifted off his chest. “At least you can protect each other,” John says almost bitterly.

Stiles looks at him and says, “You protect me too Dad. If I had told you everything sooner...”

“Not your fault, kiddo,” Sheriff says fervently.

“Not yours either, Dad,” Stiles shoots back.

“You sure you’re happy, Stiles?” John asks with a grin, “Because Chris made me a whole clip of wolfsbane bullets…”

Stiles laughs and says, “Yes, Dad. I am very happy. I know you’re not thrilled with how young we are and everything, but I’m really grateful you’re trying. He’s a good man. He’ll take good care of me.”

“You take care of each other.” John shoots back with a grin. He knows it’s true. “At least he can’t get you pregnant. There’s that at least.”

Stiles turns red and says, “Um, about that…while I was reading one of grandpa’s journals there’s a great story where he helped two mated males have children.”

John boggles at him. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s magic, Dad, not science.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” John asks truly appalled at the thought of being a grandfather this early in life.

Stiles quickly assures him, “No. Not pregnant. I swear.” He pauses and then says, “But…in the interest of full disclosure, I mean we _are_ the last of the Hales and Stilinskis. So…maybe one day I’ll find the spell grandpa wrote about.”

John closes his eyes and whispers, “Jesus Christ. Pregnant…” He shakes his head and says, “Well at least I know _everything_ now, right? The worst is over and we're all going to be okay.”

Stiles gives his dad a long side-long glance and says a little smugly, “Well…not _everything_. I mean, I didn't think you'd want to know about the knotting.” Stiles smirks.

“Knotting? What the hell is...” John can literally feel the blood drain from his face. “Jesus, kid! No, I don't want to know about...what the hell, Stiles?”

Derek steps out of the house a minute later with a couple of bottles and silently hands a non-alcoholic beer to the Sheriff, then steps back and runs his hand over Stiles’ head softly. He still needs to constantly touch and reassure himself Stiles is alive and mostly whole.

Derek’s just taken a long pull of his beer when the Sheriff says in a low, almost conversational, tone, “So Derek…knotting, huh?”

Beer sprays out of Derek’s mouth and Stiles begins laughing hysterically. “Yeah, we're all going to be okay.”

 

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters or pictures. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, producers, or actors of Teen Wolf. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
